In Harm's Way
by Yahtzee
Summary: Buffy searches for a new start. The Scooby Gang searches for Buffy. Spike goes to the mall.
1. Default Chapter Title

The characters herein are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and Fox Studios. They are used without permission, expectation of profit or intent of infringement. This story contains some adult language and descriptions of violence; those who are squeamish or underage must use their best judgment. The story is set during the fourth season of BTVS, between the episodes "Doomed" and "A New Man," which I identify as the Christmas break of Buffy's freshman year, and refers to various events before that point. For ATS, this episode falls almost immediately after "Hero." I welcome any and all comments; send praise or flames to Yahtzee63@aol.com.  
  
Thanks go to Shoshanna, who had a brilliant idea and was kind enough to let me use it, to Jessica, who provided a wealth of inspiration along the way, to the magnificent beta-reading team of Tara, Amanda, Amy, Ruth and Lacy, and to Rodney, who realized what Giles forgot to do on Christmas Day. Also, this fic was conceived (entirely) and written (just barely) before the season five episode "Real Me" aired. It represents my best efforts to explain some of the character development of Season Four.  
  
Rating: R   
  
Category: Angst, Drama  
  
Archive: Wherever you'd like, but please let me know first  
  
Summary: Moving from the past to the future isn't easy.  
  
  
******************  
IN HARM'S WAY  
by Yahtzee  
Yahtzee63@aol.com  
******************  
  
"I'm just saying that you don't seem to -- listen -- anymore," Gregory said hesitantly. Tess rolled her eyes, and he sighed. "There you go again. Dismissing me."  
  
"I don't see why we have to overanalyze this," Tess said. "Or why you're always the one with deep issues. I thought men were from Mars, women were from Venus, you know? Plus, I don't see why we have to fight in front of our friends."  
  
"We're not fighting. We're discussing, in a calm, rational manner, why you won't share the simplest, most basic things with me."  
  
"Oh, if you're going to make such a big deal about it --" Tess said. She shook her head and dropped the battered, semiconscious boy at Gregory's feet. "Have at it. Don't say I never gave you anything."  
  
Gregory smiled. "I'm so glad we could be open about this," he said, before biting into their victim's neck. The boy made a small, strangled cry as he died.  
  
Tess and Gregory's companion winced at the sound; Gregory didn't notice her, and Tess pretended not to.  
  
When he was finished, Gregory hugged Tess and ruffled her dark hair. "This has been such a great night for us. I'm thinking we should follow this up back at the lair -- maybe with a little Kenny G --"  
  
"Remember that I did not even bitch about the Kenny G the next time you start this do-you-love-me crap," Tess cuddled into his side but looked at their companion instead. "We can do that later. Right now, I think I'd like to watch Harmony hunt."  
  
Harmony swallowed hard. "Me? Uh, I don't know."  
  
"What's your problem, Harmony?" Tess jeered. "Come to think of it, I've never seen you eat a bite. What, are you scared of the humans?"  
  
"Tess -- lay off a second," Gregory said, reaching out to touch Harmony's shoulder. "Harmony -- I hesitate to say this, but it's got to be said -- don't be scared to tell me the truth. We'll back you all the way. Do you have some kind of -- eating disorder?"  
  
"What?" Harmony said. "No way. Anorexia is so '80s."  
  
"Then what kind of loser are you?" Tess snapped. "You're tagging along after us all the time, ever since Spike dumped you --"  
  
"I dumped him!"  
  
"Uh-huh, right," Tess said. "An eight-month-old vampire dumped the Big Bad. And you're not lining the bottom of an ashtray. Makes perfect sense, doesn't it, Gregory?"  
  
"Spike was not good at dealing with interpersonal conflicts," Gregory said.   
  
"When are you going to get with the program?" Tess said.   
  
"I'm with the program," Harmony said. "Honest. I am."  
  
Tess and Gregory just stared at her, and she began to wish she'd asked Spike more about being undead. He'd always snapped at her for asking so many questions, but he did always answer them in the end. Spike would have told her, for instance, whether vampires ever drank the blood of other vampires.   
  
"So what's your part of the program, Harmony?" Tess said with a smile Harmony liked even less than her usual smiles. "If you're not going to hunt something for my amusement, or kill something for my supper, what good are you, really?"  
  
"Now, Tess, there's no reason to be unkind," Gregory said. "Then again, we do owe it to ourselves to surround ourselves with positive energy."  
  
Harmony began reviewing as much as she could remember from what Spike had told her. This included a lot of information about Drusilla and the many evils of fungus demons, none of which seemed particularly useful. The things he used to rant about -- maybe she didn't miss him so much after all.  
  
Gregory was looking skeptical. Tess was looking hungry. Harmony tried very, very hard to think. A solitary idea dropped into her head.. "I -- I think I might have a plan. A part of the program."  
  
"A plan to what?" Tess asked. "Follow us around like a little puppy?"  
  
"A plan to take care of the Slayer for good," Harmony announced proudly.  
  
The other two vampires looked at her for a long moment, then burst into laughter. Harmony folded her arms in front of her chest. "It's a good plan!"  
  
"Oh, this I have to see," Tess said. "Too bad the Master didn't have you around to protect him. Little Harmony's going to kill the Slayer."  
  
"I'm not gonna kill her," Harmony said.  
  
This, at last, got their attention. "So what are you going to do?" Gregory asked.  
  
Harmony explained as quickly as she could, and she actually started to smile as she watched Tess and Gregory's faces change, slowly, into respect.  
  
"Damn," Tess said. "That's a good idea."  
  
"So what are we waiting on?" Harmony said, high on her unexpected success.  
  
Tess pointed toward the east, which was becoming faintly pink. "Not sunrise, I guess."  
  
"Uh, good point," Harmony said.   
  
"But tomorrow, right?" Gregory said. "We can get everyone in on it today. This is going to be fantastic!"  
  
"Yeah," Harmony said. "This is going to be -- fun."   
  
And it had been way too long since she had had fun. She felt a grin spreading across her face as they began running through the last of the darkness, laughing.  
  
  
  
  
"Do you have to go?" Buffy asked. "I mean, absolutely positively?"  
  
"Absolutely," Riley said, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead. "Positively. Funny thing about Christmas. Your parents usually want you around."  
  
Buffy tried to smile. "Most parents. Not mine."  
  
Riley frowned; even though they were in public -- the Stevenson dorm lobby, filled with students dragging bags of dirty laundry to their cars -- he still moved closer to put his arm around her shoulder. "Buffy, what are you talking about?"  
  
"Okay, my mom's off the hook," Buffy said. "She's on this once-in-a-lifetime trip to Africa to buy some pieces for the gallery. But my dad is -- my dad."  
  
"Which means?"  
  
"He's a busy guy," Buffy said. It sounded lame, sure, but not as lame as it had sounded when her dad said it.  
  
"Buffy --"  
  
"It's okay," she said reassuringly. "I've got Willow and Xander and Giles to keep me company. And after finals, I could use some crash time, you know?"  
  
"Do you want to come with me?" Riley said.  
  
"You mean to Iowa?" Buffy asked. "You're joking."  
  
"I wouldn't joke about this," Riley said. "We could get you a ticket on the internet today; I'd be there waiting for you at the airport tomorrow."  
  
"Wouldn't your parents think we're pretty serious? I mean, me coming to meet them and spend the holidays --"  
  
"They'll probably think that," Riley said. "It's what I think, too."  
  
"That's really sweet," Buffy said softly. "But I'm gonna pass. Some of my friends are alone for the holidays too. We ought to stick together."  
  
"Thinking of your friends first. I shouldn't have expected anything less," Riley said, drawing her into his arms for a long, slow kiss.   
  
The sensation of kissing Riley was still very new; Buffy turned her mind away from the strangeness and let herself enjoy the moment. To be standing out in the open, kissing a man while the sunlight poured in, not caring if the whole world could see -- how nice. How sweet. How -- weird.  
  
Riley stepped away and took a deep breath. "Okay. That should leave me with pleasant memories to keep me amused on the plane."  
  
"You're telling me goodbye for three whole weeks, and you're worried about being amused on the plane?" Buffy frowned.  
  
"The last inflight movie I saw? 'Inspector Gadget.' Don't mock my pain."  
  
"Point taken," Buffy said. "But hurry back, so I can amuse you for real."  
  
Riley kissed her once more, then grabbed up his duffel and jogged out the dormitory's front door. Buffy watched him go, momentarily oblivious to anything besides how nice Riley could look leaving a building -- something to be said for a pair of jeans that fit a man just so --  
  
"Someone's glazing over."   
  
Buffy turned around to see Willow smiling knowingly. She rolled her eyes. "I'm not glazing. Maybe misting."  
  
"Riley's mist-worthy," Willow agreed. "So, has this taken a boyfriendly turn?"  
  
"I guess so," Buffy said. Her smile faded a bit as her expression grew more determined. "Yeah. Yeah, it has."  
  
"That was very believable."  
  
Buffy sighed. "It has taken a turn for the boyfriendly. Definitely. I mean, what's not to like? Riley's sweet, and he's caring, and he's dedicated, and it looks like he can deal with the whole Slayer thing."  
  
"Don't forget the part about him being really hot," Willow said.  
  
"Believe me, I was not forgetting that," Buffy said. She smiled a little as she flopped down on one of the dorm lobby sofas. Willow sat on the arm and looked down at Buffy inquisitvely.  
  
"So why, when you're telling me all this, do you sound just a little too convincing?"  
  
"It's just hard for me to compare what I'm feeling now for Riley to what I'm still feeling --" Buffy paused.  
  
"For Angel," Willow finished.   
  
After a moment of silence, Buffy blurted out, "I mean, it's been six months already. I've only seen him once in all that time, and that was only for a few minutes -- and it was enough to rip my heart open. God, Willow, when does it stop hurting?"  
  
"Can't tell you," Willow said. "But when you find out, can you let me know?"  
  
Buffy cringed. "I'm sorry, Wil. Here I am going on about my own problems, which consist of having a totally great guy interested in me, while you're still in Dumpsville."  
  
"Population: Me." But Willow was smiling again. "Buffy, Angel was your first love. You're not supposed to get over him just like that."  
  
"I know that," Buffy said. "I just want to know when I will get over him. Whether I ever really get to begin again."  
  
Willow said, "I think you and Riley should just go with it. I bet you'll be starting over in no time."  
  
  
  
  
"Starting over. God, it's wonderful."  
  
"Are you telling me you're turning over a new leaf?" Xander said.  
  
"It's a lot like my old leaf," answered Spike. He was rubbing his hands together enthusiastically as he paced the narrow confines of Xander's basement. "Only now I kill demons instead of you lot. No offense."  
  
"None taken either way," Anya said, from her place on the inflatable chair.   
  
"It's more challenging anyway, isn't it? I mean, humans. Slow, vulnerable, none too bright as a rule. Never had a bit of trouble offing them, at least before this blasted -- whatever the commando-boys did to me. Now, demons -- they're fast. They've got claws and lightning bolts and secret powers and what-all. That's a real man's prey, there."  
  
"As interesting as this exercise in rationalization may be," Xander said, "it doesn't explain why there's wood all over my floor."  
  
"I fetched that from the lumberyard last night," Spike said.  
  
"Fetched, as in stole. Gotcha," Xander said. "Still doesn't explain why. I don't suppose you're making stakes? Contemplating another suicide attempt?"  
  
"Sorry to dash your hopes, but no," Spike said. "I figure that, as long as I'm now a member of this crime-fighting unit, I'd better start getting settled in. As I don't fancy being lashed to your chair on a nightly basis, I was thinking of building a loft. That would suit me fine."  
  
"You can't live here forever, Spike --" Xander said.   
  
"Gotta back Xander up on this one," Anya said. "I like you, Spike. You're smart, and you're funny, and you're not confusing like humans. But while you're in the basement, Xander and I can't have sex. So when are you moving out?"  
  
"There's nothing I'd like better than to leave you two to your dank basement of love," Spike said. "But until you can convince Buffy and Giles that I should draw a salary for my good deeds, I'm stuck here. With you."  
  
"Why should you get paid?" Xander said. "I don't get paid. Buffy doesn't get paid. Giles -- well, I think he used to get paid --"  
  
"Buffy has a daft and loving mum," Spike said. "Giles seems to be independently wealthy. You have a collection of little plastic name tags that speaks volumes about your employability. But the financial prospects for vampires are a bit bleak -- that is, if I leave off stealing, which I suppose I've got to, what with the being on the side of good and all." He frowned, then folded his arms across his chest. "And, of course, I am not beginning my new life as every demon's worst nightmare wearing this."  
  
Anya looked at Spike's Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. "I don't know. You're pretty nightmarish."  
  
"These are my clothes you're talking about, Anya," Xander said.  
  
"Exactly," Spike said. "I need some new threads. Preferably just like my old threads. And I'm not budging until I get the money for them. And a new place. And so forth."  
  
"Excuse me?" Xander said. "This is my basement. If I say you have to go, you have to go."  
  
"Try and make me," Spike said. "I'd rather be dust than be seen in your togs."  
  
"You say this as though staking you would be a problem for me."  
  
"Xander, I think that's an example of what you called 'needless hostility,'" Anya said. "You said we were supposed to avoid that around our friends."  
  
"A category into which Spike does NOT fit."  
  
"But he's one of the Scooby Gang now, right?"  
  
Spike made a gagging sound. When Anya and Xander turned to face him, he shook his head. "'Sall right. I just -- hadn't thought of it in those terms before. Just need a moment to get used to it."  
  
Xander ran one hand through his hair. "Against all our better judgment, yeah, I guess he's part of the team."  
  
"So, that's settled," Anya said. "And all we have to do right now is get him some new clothes, so he's not ashamed to leave the house. He'll be out all night, and that leaves the basement for us. We can even take a trip to the mall tonight."  
  
"Anya, I am not paying for Spike's visit to The Gap."  
  
"What? Forget that," Spike said. "I'm not really the fleece-vest type, in case you hadn't noticed."  
  
"It's on me," Anya said, holding up a credit card. "I filled out some little paper cards I got in the mail, and now I have about 30 of these things. And they're all as good as money."  
  
Xander blanched. "How much have you used the credit cards, Anya?"  
  
"Just for some new clothes. And the haircut. And the new color. And your Christmas presents. And some Christmas presents for me, too."  
  
"Ohhh-kay. We have to talk about this," Xander said. "And the first thing I'm going to tell you about is the after-Christmas sale. If you're going to buy the peroxide pariah new outfits, at least make sure you get them on the cheap."  
  
"I don't see why you're unhappy that I'm buying him some clothes," Anya said. "It's just so he'll leave, and we can have sex again."  
  
"She makes a good point, doesn't she?" Spike said.  
  
"I hate you," Xander said.   
  
  
  
  
  
"How is it?" Giles asked.  
  
Willow tried to smile. "Um, I'm sure that if you're, you know, into eggnog, it's great."  
  
"I'm into eggnog," Buffy said. "It's the noggiest."  
  
"Thank you, I suppose," Giles said. "Willow, perhaps you could bring some of your family treats over next time."  
  
"I don't know. Challah has its place and all, but I think I'm going to stick with the little chocolate Santas," Willow said, resolutely biting off one Santa's head.  
  
"Now, what is this next film we're going to see?" Giles said, settling down on the sofa beside Willow.  
  
"I can't believe you've never seen 'A Christmas Story,' Giles," Willow said. "This is a classic. The classic of any American holiday season."  
  
"What about 'It's a Wonderful Life?'" Giles asked.  
  
"Out with the '90s," Willow said.  
  
"An interesting definition of classic you Americans have," Giles said. "Buffy, aren't you joining us?"  
  
Buffy, who had gotten to her feet, shook her head. "If you guys don't mind, I'm gonna pass."  
  
"Buffy? You okay?" Willow asked.  
  
"Sure. Just getting a little sleepy, I guess," Buffy said. "Tell Xander and Anya hi for me. What the hell -- Spike too. It's the holidays, right?"  
  
"If the Christmas spirit applies to Spike, which I think is arguable," Giles said. "Good night, Buffy. We'll see you tomorrow morning, right?"  
  
"Right," Buffy said, smiling as she went outside. But the smile faded as soon as the door swung shut.  
  
It was cold by Sunnydale standards; the temperature had dipped into the low 40s, and Buffy tugged her coat around her a little more securely. The last time she'd felt this cold was last Christmas. God -- last Christmas.  
  
She could still see Angel's face as it had looked then: tears on his cheeks, anguish in every shadow. Could still hear his voice -- "Just this once let me be strong."  
  
And she could still hear her own. "I wish I wished you dead. I don't. I can't --"  
  
There it is, Angel, she thought. If your turning evil and my sending you to hell didn't make me stop loving you, then what makes you think I'll stop because you took a trip to L.A.?  
  
He'd gone to make her life better, he'd said. Buffy knew he believed it. And some things were easier; she'd admit that much. She didn't have to deal with the disapproval that had radiated from Xander or her mother any time she'd as much as mentioned Angel's name. She could make plans to go out with her friends without worrying about setting aside some time for Angel, who depended on her as his only real human contact.   
  
But that mattered so little, compared to the loss she felt. Angel understood her -- as a person, as a Slayer. Willow and Giles and Xander did too, of course; they were part of her history, part of her life. Riley -- sweet and kind though he might be -- was not. He said he wanted to know everything about her, said it with a smile on his face. That should have warmed her to the core. Instead, she could only remember how Angel had known everything about her at first sight. Known, and loved --   
  
Besides, how did you start explaining this stuff? Did she start with the Master? With the Mayor? Her first Watcher? Faith? Buffy cringed as she tried to imagine telling Riley that she'd stabbed someone and put her into a coma. Could he ever understand that? Could he really ever accept her?  
  
She tried to picture Riley's face as it had looked this afternoon, when he'd drawn her close and kissed her. But the hours-old memory seemed more distant than the image of Angel, surrounded by falling snow, looking up in wonder.   
  
"'Scuse me? Buffy? Is that you?"  
  
Buffy shook herself from her reverie to glance over at whomever had called her; to her surprise, Harmony came toddling out on kiwi-green platform shoes. "Oh, hey, it is you. You look great -- which is more than I can say. Can you believe these things?" Harmony said, gesturing at the absurdly high shoes. "Like, I was so praying that the 70s retro thing would die a quick death. No such luck, huh?"  
  
"Harmony, you're kinda new at this whole vampire thing, so take a tip from an old pro," Buffy said tiredly. "If you're a vampire, and you see a Vampire Slayer, don't call her over to check out your wardrobe. Run the other way." She pulled a stake out from her coat pocket, more annoyed than anything else. "I don't expect you to live long enough to put this advice to good use. But, these last few seconds before I dust you, consider it food for thought."  
  
"I have other plans for dinner," Harmony said, her face morphing into a vampire's scowl.   
  
"Ooooh. Eeek," Buffy said, straight-faced. Well, this wasn't going to be any fun -- staking people she'd known during their lives was never easy, but she'd done it often enough, and to people she'd liked a lot better than Harmony.  
  
But as she drew her arm back for her first blow, something hit her, a white-hot dart of pain in the shoulder. "Ow!" Buffy yelled, wheeling around to see what had hit her.  
  
Far behind her was a small cluster of vampires, all huddled around one vamp who had -- was that a gun? She hadn't been shot -- she was strong, but she couldn't be standing after that, could she? --  
  
Buffy reached behind her to feel her back; her fingers brushed against something sticking out of her, something hard, maybe plastic. She tugged it out -- funny, she didn't feel anything as she did that -- and looked at it.  
  
A tranquilizer dart.   
  
"Maybe you shouldn't be giving advice so much, Buffy," Harmony said. Buffy looked up at her; Harmony's face was going in and out of focus. Buffy knew she ought to care about that, ought to care even more about the vampires she could hear approaching behind her. But she didn't. She felt nothing in her heart, nothing in her body -- nothing besides a warm, rushing sensation that was almost pleasant, really --  
  
"Maybe you ought to look out for yourself," Harmony said.  
  
And that was the last thing Buffy heard. The last thing she felt was her body thudding into the pavement; it should have hurt, but it didn't. Nothing hurt any more.   
  
The last thing she saw was Harmony's face, humanlike once again, smiling down at her.   
  
END PART ONE  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimers, et al, in Part 1 --  
  
*****************  
IN HARM'S WAY  
by Yahtzee  
Yahtzee63@aol.com  
*****************  
  
Part 2  
  
  
"Harmony! Way to go!" Gregory said as he ran up. The other vampires were just as enthusiastic.  
  
"That was so cool, the way you just walked up to her -- "  
  
"The thing with the shoes -- that's classic! I can't believe she fell for that trick!"  
  
"How come nobody thought of this before?"  
  
Harmony wrinkled her forehead; it was a pretty obvious tactic, wasn't it? "Well, we -- vampires -- we kill by instinct. We want to use our hands and our fangs. It's hard to think about killing with things like guns. But we can make ourselves think like that if we try."  
  
Was that what she wanted to say? Close enough, anyway. The other vampires were all looking at her admiringly. Harmony hadn't felt this good since she'd seen Queen C knocked into a dumpster.  
  
"So, Harmony, I guess you want to be the one to kill her, right?" said one vamp, who'd joined their hunting party late.  
  
"You dork," she said scathingly. "If we were gonna kill her, we'd have used a real gun. And if I drank her now, I'd be knocked out until Tuesday, at least. That's like 800 Tylenol PM in her system."  
  
The vamp didn't get it. "But she's the Slayer! She's knocked out! Laid out on the street like an all-you-can-eat --- Slayer bar! You're telling me we're not gonna kill her?"  
  
"Think, lamebrain," Harmony said. "What happens when a Slayer dies? They just get another one. She comes back here, and we just have somebody new killing vampires. Back to square one."  
  
"So what's the point?" the new vamp said. "Did we knock her out just to piss her off?"  
  
The others were all laughing now -- laughing at that new vamp, not at her, a change of pace Harmony found absolutely exhilarating. "God, man," Tess said, "get with the program!"  
  
"You guys pick her up," Harmony said, gesturing grandly at Buffy's unconscious body. "We oughta hurry. She's stronger than us, so she's gonna wake up a lot earlier than Tuesday."  
  
"You got it, Harmony," Gregory said approvingly.  
  
"Oh, and that's another thing," she said. "It's not Harmony anymore. From now on -- it's just Harm."  
  
They cheered and applauded and grabbed up her enemy to do her bidding. And Harm knew she hadn't felt this good since she'd died.  
  
  
  
  
The first day, it didn't seem like such a big deal.  
  
"So Buffy didn't call," Willow rationalized. "So what? It's the holidays, and people get busy, and sometimes people get blue, and it's not like we had anything big planned. Just decorating Giles' tree."  
  
"Oh, thank you very much," Giles said, sipping from his eggnog.   
  
"You know what I mean," Willow said, as she moved a few ornaments to the back of the tree so those branches wouldn't get lonely. "I mean, this is cool and special and all, but it's not like she skipped out on patrol."  
  
"I still think she should've called us or something," Xander griped as he fitfully tossed tinsel strands on the branches. "This is Anya's first Christmas as a human in just about forever --"  
  
"They used to put real candles on the trees," Anya said, looking doubtfully at a Taco Bell chihuahua ornament. "Caused a lot of fires."  
  
"Very suspenseful," Spike said from the kitchen, as he pulled a mug of warm blood from the microwave. "Lots better, if you ask me."  
  
"Better or not, I wish she'd celebrate with us instead of moping by herself," Xander said.  
  
"Now, Xander, she might as easily be shopping," Giles said. "In fact, given Buffy's general inclinations, I think that's the most likely guess."  
  
Spike laughed. "Bollocks. She's off pining over Soul-Boy. Ten to one."  
  
"Either way," Willow said firmly, "it's not that big a deal. So, let's just turn the lights on and get a look at this baby."  
  
Giles got down on his hands and knees and fiddled with the wires beneath the packages for a minute; then the lights came on, red and gold and green, and Xander and Willow applauded. After a minute, Anya followed suit.  
  
"Oooh, the star!" Willow said. "Want to put it on top, Spike?"  
  
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Spike said.  
  
"Seeing as how that's probably a 'no,' I'll take care of it," Xander said, hanging on to the side of Giles' stair rail to put the star on top.  
  
"Beautiful," Anya sighed.  
  
"I'm glad you like it," Giles said.  
  
"Who wouldn't?" she answered dreamily. "The way Xander's butt looks when he goes up steps --"  
  
"All righty," Willow said hurriedly, "another tree duly decorated for the holidays. And Miss Buffy will just have to admire our masterpiece when she shows up."  
  
  
  
The second day, it seemed pretty damn obnoxious.  
  
"I mean, sure," Willow huffed, roughly jamming the CDs she'd bought for Xander into a box, "the holidays suck. I mean, they suck for everybody, right?"  
  
"Right," Spike said. Exactly why he'd decided to come by her place, she wasn't sure -- maybe it was because she'd mentioned that her parents were out for the night. Maybe he'd thought she would be lonely. Nobody really understood Spike, Willow decided, and she managed a quick smile for him before Buffy's inconsideration took over her thoughts again.  
  
"And, yeah, I bet she does miss Angel. Or Riley. Or Angel and Riley. But she's not the only person who's alone this year," Willow said.  
  
"This is the first Christmas I've spent without Drusilla in -- God. Almost 130 years."  
  
"Really?" Willow's furious assault on the wrapping paper stilled, and she looked up at at Spike with dewy-eyed empathy. He looked so strangely out of place -- Spike, a vampire more than a century old, wearing a black leather duster, sitting on the floor of Ira Rosenberg's living room, not far from the menorah. "Oh, Spike, I'm sorry. You must feel so lonely."  
  
"Yeah," Spike said, shifting slightly closer to Willow. "I do. We used to have the best Christmases, me and Dru. She loved this time of year. All those carolers going about late at night -- unarmed --"  
  
"Uh, okay, enough story," Willow said.   
  
"Suppose you're lonely too, what with Lassie not coming home and all," Spike said.  
  
"Yeah," Willow said. She stared down at the shiny green paper in her hands. Last year, she and Oz had just been getting back together again; they'd spent Christmas Eve cuddled up in her bed, not doing anything really, just hugging, talking, kissing -- "Spike?"  
  
"Yeah, Red?" he said softly.  
  
"How come you're touching my hair?"  
  
After a brief pause, Spike said, "You had tinsel in it."   
  
"Oh," she said. "Thanks." She scooted away from him a little.  
  
"The Slayer will get over her pout any day now," Spike said. "And you lot can go about your sickeningly sweet holiday business. If I were you, I'd appreciate the time to be out-of-sorts in peace."  
  
Willow smiled shyly. "You're trying to be nice without sounding nice," she said. "You think I don't catch on, but I do."  
  
"Hell, no," Spike said. "I'm trying to sound nice without being nice. World of difference."  
  
"I don't believe you."  
  
"You should; you're smart enough to know better," Spike said, laughing. "That's why I don't hate you quite so much as the others. You've got a bit of sense about you."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Willow said, taping the paper around the box. "I kinda like you too, Spike. I mean, it's not like you're evil anymore."  
  
Spike was quiet for a long moment. Willow looked over at him curiously; he seemed, somehow, to be even paler than usual. At last, he said in a gravelly voice, "What did you say?"  
  
"What? I said you weren't evil, and -- you're not. I mean, you're not killing people any more, are you?"  
  
"No --"  
  
"And you're helping us kill demons and other vampires and stuff, right?"  
  
"Right --"  
  
"And you're being all nice to me while I'm freaking about Buffy --"  
  
"Yeah, but --"  
  
"Plus you stuck the bows on my last three packages," Willow said. "What's evil about that?"  
  
"I'm still -- very, very evil!" Spike said. "I mean, maybe not so much in in the active sense, but desires, motivations, hopes for the future -- all still evil."  
  
"Well, it takes time to change," Willow said. "You're not evil. You're just -- morally ambiguous."  
  
Spike stood up, fists clenched. He hissed, "Take --- that --- back."  
  
She stuck her chin out. "Will not."  
  
"Well, I have had enough of this," Spike said, furious down to the core. "I'm headed out to kill something. The demons of Sunnydale had better watch out -- real evil is headed their way. And don't you forget it!" He stomped out into the night.  
  
"He knows Buffy's not patrolling," Willow said to herself as she fished out a name tag. "So he's going out to help. The guys just have him all wrong."  
  
  
  
The fourth day was when it got scary.  
  
"There's not calling, and then there's not calling," Xander said. "The holiday blues are one thing, but they're not this thing."  
  
Giles took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm inclined to agree with you, Xander. Buffy's absence is -- significant."  
  
"So, where would she be?" Anya said.   
  
"Say, you don't suppose she's dead, do you?" Spike said nonchalantly. When the other four people in the room turned to stare at him accusingly, he shrugged. "Sorry, but Slayers being Slayers, it's a fair question."  
  
"Let's think this through," Xander said. "Buffy's defeated the Master, Angel, you -- and on more than one occasion, so don't even try to deny it -- Mr. Trick, the Mayor, Faith, the Gentlemen and about eight thousand vampires and demons. Let's all look outside the window. Has the world ended? No. So nothing's come along that could take out Buffy."  
  
"Xander is making an uncommon amount of sense today," Giles said. "It's far more likely that her absence is due to more ordinary reasons. Do you think she might have gone to join her mother in Africa?"  
  
Willow shook her head. "There's all these immunizations you have to get in advance," she said. "I mean, you can go without them, but Mrs. Summers wouldn't let her. No way. But --"  
  
"But what?" Xander said.  
  
"She mentioned that Riley had invited her to Iowa. Maybe she went there."  
  
"Who?" Giles said.  
  
Willow, surprised Giles didn't know, stumbled over her answer. "Oh, just a friend of ours. From class. From school."  
  
Anya waggled her eyebrows. Giles didn't seem to catch on. "Do you have the phone number for this friend?"  
  
"No, but he's from this really small town. I bet we can track his family down through 411. Let's see --"  
  
Riley's family were not, in fact, the only Finns in town, but they were the third number Willow tried. As the others clustered around Giles' desk (except for Spike, who was flipping through TV channels with inhuman speed, over and over), Willow waited for Riley to come to the phone. At last he said, "Willow? Merry Christmas!"  
  
"Thanks. Same to you --"  
  
"Oh, wait. No. Happy Chanukah."  
  
"Thanks again --"  
  
"No, no, that's wrong too -- Buffy said you were kind of a pagan -- is it the solstice?"  
  
Willow laughed. "I consider myself well-wished."  
  
"Okay, then," Riley said. "Say, is Buffy there?"  
  
Her heart sank. "No. No, she's not around --"  
  
"Oh," Riley said. She could hear the disappointment in his voice, could see it reflected in the faces around her. "I kinda thought she would've called me by now, but I haven't heard a word."  
  
"Well, she's been busy," Willow said. "I haven't heard from her that much myself."  
  
"I guess the holidays get hectic for everyone," Riley said, good nature restored. "But it was sweet of you to take the time to call, Willow."  
  
"Just wanted to wish you the best. And --"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Happy New Year," Willow said, hanging up before she blurted out anything she'd have to explain later..   
  
"There's a dead end," Anya huffed. "What next?"  
  
Willow looked up at Giles. "You have Angel's number in Los Angeles, right?"  
  
"Right," Giles said, going to thumb through the scraps of paper where he kept far too much important information.  
  
"Come on," Xander said. "She wouldn't have gone back to him. Not again. That's over."  
  
"Those two are never over," Spike said, never taking his eyes from the ever-changing images on the screen. "No longer lovers, maybe. Separated, sure. Bitter enemies, even. But not over."  
  
"Why would I listen to you?" Xander asked.  
  
"You wouldn't, unless you were a lot smarter than you are, which you aren't," Spike said. "So I'm basically just talking to hear myself talk. Good enough reason any day."  
  
"Last Christmas was pretty intense for them," Willow said in a low voice. "And she's been missing him. She told me so."  
  
"Great," Xander said. "Nothing makes the holidays special like Buffy's demon lover."  
  
Giles handed Willow the number, which she dialed after wondering for a moment why she got the phone-call duties. After two rings, she heard a familiar voice sing-song, "Angel Investigations -- we help the hopeless. Are you one of them?"  
  
"Cordelia?"  
  
"Willow? Ohmigod, I totally didn't expect to hear from you. Is this, like, the happy-holidays call?"  
  
"Uh, no," Willow said, a little ashamed that the idea had never occurred to her.  
  
"Figures," Cordelia said, with a trace of her old snap. "So, what's the deal? Is the world ending again?"  
  
"Not that I know of," Willow said. "But actually, we're kind of short one Slayer. Is Buffy down there with you guys?"  
  
"You mean, with Angel. Because it's not like she would be running down here to hang with me," Cordelia said. "No, she's not around."  
  
"Are you sure?" Willow said. "I mean, she and Angel might have decided they wanted some alone time --"  
  
"Uh, hello," Cordelia said. "Of course I'm sure. For one, Angel would totally tell me if something this major were going on, and for two, he lives downstairs from the office, so I'm running down to his place for books and weapons and low-cal creamer about five times a day. Unless Buffy's hiding in the closet, she's not around."  
  
"All right, then," Willow said, and took a deep breath. "Cordelia, Buffy's kinda -- taken off, and we need to figure out where. We were thinking maybe Angel would have some ideas, so if you could just get him --"  
  
"No way," Cordelia said.  
  
Willow stared at the receiver. "Uh, I don't think I got that --"  
  
"Angel has been through a lot the last few days," Cordelia said, and there was a quavering quality to her voice that Willow had never heard before. "We both have. A friend of ours died and -- and this is just not the time to freak him out over nothing."  
  
"I'm sorry, Cordy," Willow said. "But if Buffy's in trouble, he'd want to know."  
  
"That's not exactly a news flash," Cordelia said. "But you don't know that she's in trouble. She just took off. Doesn't have to mean anything at all, except she wanted out of Sunnydale for a day, which is not only not weird but totally understandable. Right?"  
  
"Right," Willow admitted.  
  
"I'm not trying to be a bitch about this," Cordelia said. "I mean it. It's just that -- every time somebody even says her name, it kills him. Just kills him. If I tell him Buffy's upset about something, and she's taken off on her own, so on and so forth, he's gonna freak. You know Angel -- he goes straight for the worst-case scenario. He'd lose it. And the two of us are only just getting ourselves back together after --"   
  
"I understand," Willow said.  
  
"But, if -- if it is something serious -- call back right away. We'll be there. Both of us," Cordelia said.  
  
"Thanks," Willow said. "And Cordy --"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Merry Christmas."  
  
There was a pause, and somehow Willow felt as if she could hear Cordelia smile. "Same to you."  
  
After Willow hung up, they all remained in place. The silence was only punctuated by the clatter from the TV, still changing stations every two seconds, courtesy of Spike.   
  
Finally, Xander said, "I didn't get all of that, but I do understand that Buffy's still AWOL."  
  
"Right," Willow said. "Giles, I'm starting to feel really bad about this."  
  
Giles did not answer; he was looking fixedly down at his desk. Willow said again, "Giles?"  
  
He shook his head slightly, smiled and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's only natural to be worried. But we must be reasonable. Christmas is in two days, yes?"  
  
"She wouldn't let Christmas go by without calling us," Willow said, brightening.  
  
"Or, if she does -- then we know we have a problem," Xander said.  
  
"My thoughts precisely," Giles said. "There's no point in worrying about this any more until then."  
  
"Chill," Spike said. "She's probably decided to celebrate by ditching all the solemn-sacred-duty crap for a week or so. She's probably getting a tan on the beach."  
  
  
  
  
The room whirled, tilted, spun again, fell black.  
  
She couldn't see any more, couldn't feel, but she could hear --  
  
"I think she's coming around."  
  
"So get another dose ready, dorko."  
  
"Sorry, Harm."  
  
Buffy opened her eyes just a sliver. High above her, something fluttered -- something in red and gold --  
  
"Sunnydale High Razorbacks, District Champions, 1995"  
  
That banner used to be in the gym, Buffy thought dazedly. Then, as she forced herself to look around, she realized -- this is the gym.  
  
Of course, she'd never seen it like this. The gymnasium had more or less made it through the dynamite blast that had killed the Mayor, but it was the worse for wear; the banner hanging over her head was virtually the only thing that wasn't singed black. The bleachers were broken and lopsided; a few posters for the graduation dance that never was clung feebly to the walls, their edges curled and ashen.   
  
I promised Principal Flutie that I wouldn't burn down the gym, Buffy thought dazedly. So much for promises.  
  
"Good morning, sunshine!" Harm chirped. Buffy jerked her head toward the noise; the hard curl of metal against her neck made her look around once again and realize that she was actually in a cage.   
  
"Oooh, wait, no," Harm said. "Not really a good nickname. Sunshine could still hurt me. But you can't."  
  
"Got another dose, Harm," said a young vampire who ducked into Buffy's narrow field of vision. "You wanna do it?"  
  
"First things first," Harm said. "I get the first serving from the Buffy Buffet."  
  
Buffy watched, horrified but immobile, as Harm knelt at the foot of the cage. Her lower legs extended from the cage, locked in place with chains. Harm ran one finger down the length of Buffy's foot. "Does that tickle? Guess not. Anyway, you're gonna spend most of the rest of your fairly long life -- considering everything -- asleep. No pain, no worries. Really, you oughta thank me. But during these few moments, when your blood won't make us sleepy -- it's going to make us strong."  
  
And Harm sank her teeth into the flesh of Buffy's leg. Buffy cried out in wordless pain and despair -- oh, God, this was it, death by vampire, by Harmony no less, the one thing above all she'd prayed to be spared --  
  
But after only a moment, after only the first whirl of dizziness, Harm pulled away and wiped her mouth. Buffy could hear cheering.  
  
"The trick is not to be greedy," Harm said, smoothing her blonde tresses away from her demonic face. "The trick is to take only what you can spare. You're the Slayer. It takes a lot to kill you. So we're going to find out just how close we can get."  
  
Buffy felt the jab of the tranquilizer dart in her gut, and as they laughed and jeered at her, the darkness swam up to swallow her again.  
  
END PART TWO  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimers, et al, in Part 1 --  
  
  
*******************  
IN HARM'S WAY  
by Yahtzee  
Yahtzee63@aol.com  
*******************  
  
Part 3  
  
  
  
Giles looked down at the glass mug in his hand, at the butter-yellow drink there. How many cups of eggnog had he had? He wasn't sure; he'd begun around ten in the morning, when Xander dropped by chilled and cranky from his annual night out on the lawn. The second cup had come soon after, when Willow had called for the third time. The rest all ran together.  
  
Stupid habit of his -- worse than stupid. Drinking in times of crisis never made the crisis any better, and if something were to happen -- if Buffy were to call, lost or upset or worried, and if she needed him, what could he do now?   
  
Then again, that was the whole problem. No matter what else was happening, Giles knew, now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Buffy needed him. And he could do nothing -- nothing except have another drink.  
  
Two days ago, he'd begun doing something he'd hoped never to have to do; after soothing Willow and Xander's worries, he had set out on his own to look for Buffy. Not at the Espresso Pump or the Bronze -- he'd started looking in ditches. In graveyards. In alleyways. Any place a Slayer might fight a vampire and lose.  
  
Xander's protestations to the contrary, Giles knew full well that it would not take any supremely powerful demon to kill Buffy. For all her experience, all her skill, Buffy could fall to just one lucky strike from any cornered beast. It could happen to any Slayer. It happened to all of them, eventually.  
  
But oh, how hard he had tried to believe it wouldn't be that way for Buffy -- yes, every other Slayer since the dawn of time had faced this same calling, this same destiny, but not Buffy, not his own --  
  
Giles grimaced and drained the last eggnog from the mug, then determinedly put it aside. He had to pull himself together. Willow and Xander would no doubt be over soon, and they would want him to come up with a plan. They would need him to be strong for them. He had to find a way to be strong.  
  
The phone rang, shrill in the silence of his apartment. Giles leapt to his feet and grabbed the receiver. "Hello? Yes?"  
  
"Rupert," said a sweet, silky voice. "you never mentioned that the holidays made you so tense."  
  
"Olivia," he said, steeling himself against the crush of disappointment. "It's you."  
  
"Do try to contain your enthusiasm," Olivia said, not unkindly. In the background, he could hear "Away in a Manger" playing softly.   
  
Giles glanced over at the clock, then shook his head in embarrassment. "Good Lord, Olivia, it's midnight in London. What a lout I am for not calling you earlier."  
  
"It's all right," she said. "Between nieces and nephews and perhaps 400 Pokemon toys, I've had quite the full day. This is honestly the first moment I've had to myself. Besides, it sounds to me as though you've got something else on your mind."  
  
"Yes. Yes, I have." Giles hesitated. For some reason, though he'd never particularly liked or even really thought about the song before, "Away in a Manger" seemed exceptionally beautiful at this moment.  
  
"This is about -- magic. Or demons. The things that go bump in the night. Isn't it?" Olivia said.  
  
"Indirectly," Giles said. "More to the point, it's about Buffy. She's missing, Olivia. I'm frightened for her."  
  
Just the simple act of admitting that, out loud, to an adult who could bear to hear it, broke something inside him; Giles dropped his head into his hand.   
  
"She's strong," Olivia said. "You told me that, and I could tell as much, just from seeing her. I don't claim to understand what all of you are up against, Rupert, but I do know this; after I saw -- what I saw -- in Sunnydale, I thought I shouldn't ever be able to sleep soundly again. Then you told me about Buffy. About what she has done, what she can do. And knowing about her, and about you -- that's what makes me able to sleep at night."  
  
Giles wiped his eyes and shook his head. "You are an exceptional woman."  
  
"As though there were any doubt on that score," Olivia said, with a faintly flirtatious tone. But then she was all seriousness again. "I only wish I could help."  
  
"You have helped," Giles said. "More than you know."  
  
"I won't keep you," she replied. "But let me know what's happening."  
  
"As soon as there is anything to tell," Giles promised.  
  
  
  
Buffy swam in and out of consciousness, of past and present.   
  
Sometimes she was very aware of the vampires around her. Sometimes she didn't register anything except the weird, fuzzy sensory input from her wounded legs and chained wrists. But sometimes, when she was lucky, she could float away to other, better times -- but always the same place. This place.  
  
She could look down and see herself in the red and gold of the Sunnydale cheerleading squad, then look up to see Willow and Xander coming through the doors. She jumped up in the air, shaking pompoms at them excitedly, not caring who could hear her shouts of welcome --  
  
She could glance over and see Billy sitting next to her, nervous and frightened, more scared of reality than he was even of the nightmarish fantasies that were taking over the world. And she could feel her own confidence, her own absolute surety, that whatever it was, she could deal with it --  
  
She could hear the roar of the crowd as Percy made another basket; they were ten ahead now, thirty seconds to go, playoffs in the bag. Cordelia should have been jumping and chanting along with the other cheerleaders, but instead she was waving at Xander. He was waving back with a really stupid smile on his face; Buffy turned to look at Willow, and they each rolled their eyes. Oz sat next them, trying to act like he cared about basketball. They were all trying really hard to care, to have a good time, instead of freaking out about what Angel might do next --  
  
She could see Angel, who had to have sneaked in just like she did. It was late at night, early morning, really -- he was cutting it too close to dawn. She was too; her mom would be up soon. But she'd killed Ford at midnight, and after that, her mind was cluttered and her body restless. So she had been working out, tumbling on mats left over by the gymnastics team, trying to push herself past endurance, past memory. She was quivering with exhaustion on the mat, and Angel was coming to her, and instead of pulling her to her feet, he knelt beside her. And instead of talking, like they both knew they needed to, he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, and pulling him down on the mat --  
  
God, that was as close as they ever came to making love before That Night --  
  
And with that the dreams shattered. Reality turned back into memory. Angel and all the rest of it were phantoms. The only real things in the world were these steel bars, and the cackling vampires, and Harmony, who stood by the cage.  
  
"We gotta eat. That means you gotta eat," Harmony said. She dropped two apples and half a loaf of French bread into the cage. "Sure, you're not dining as well as we are, but I think you'd better take what you can get."  
  
Buffy looked at the apples; she knew she'd eaten before, but almost in a daze -- they must have actually fed her, something almost too grotesque to wrap her mind around. For a moment, she considered refusing to eat but dismissed the idea in an instant. She had to keep as much strength as she could. Giles and Willow and Angel and Xander would all be coming to rescue her.   
  
She took one of the apples in her hand. The chains around her wrists wouldn't let her bring the apple all the way to her mouth, so she had to lean forward to take a bite. They were laughing at her again, but Buffy didn't care.  
  
Her friends -- all those faces from her memories -- they were coming soon.  
  
All she had to do was hold on.  
  
  
  
  
"So, we are officially at Defcon 4," Xander said.  
  
"If that means we have a serious problem, yes," Giles said. "Buffy may have been depressed last week, but she was certainly not in the frame of mind that would have led her to abandon everyone she knew without even contacting us on Christmas."  
  
Spike tried very hard to contain his impatience. God, still more yammering about Buffy. He wished she'd show up or drop dead or something already; this was getting bloody dull, and the others were too timid to take on serious demon-fighting without her. Spike had managed some nice slaying on his own, thank you very much, but nobody seemed to be noticing, much less appreciating it. Being in the Scooby Gang -- he shuddered just at the thought of it -- seemed to involve a lot more sitting around and worrying than he'd thought, and a whole lot less kicking ass.  
  
Then again, the unending angst-a-thon did give him plenty of opportunities to console Willow. Sad, lovely, frightened Willow, sitting next to him right now, so very vulnerable --  
  
He patted her shoulder, all consideration. Willow, clad in a sky-blue sweater about three sizes too large for her, gave him an appreciative glance as she wiped her damp cheeks with one long sleeve. "There's still, technically speaking, about two hours of Christmas Day left --"  
  
"Drop it, Red," Spike said, in what he hoped was a polite tone of voice. "She's been missing for a week. You have yourselves a situation."  
  
"She's not dead, though," Anya said. "We know that much, right?"  
  
Giles hesitated before answering. "I only very rarely speak with members of the Watchers' Council anymore. But I have to believe that one of them would have contacted me -- to demand answers, if nothing else -- if another Slayer had been called."  
  
"So Buffy's alive," Willow said hopefully.  
  
"I'm afraid we cannot say that for certain," Giles said. Spike tried very hard not to smile. "Buffy's death may or may not activate another Slayer. It's possible that it would; then again, we must consider the possibility that Kendra was Buffy's one and only replacement. Never in all history have we dealt with this situation -- with having a Slayer die and return to life. It's impossible to know what the effects will be. For the purposes of our investigation, we are going to operate under the presumption that she is alive. But you must know that we have no guarantees."   
  
There was a lengthy silence; when the melodramatic pause had gone on too long for Spike's taste, he realized he could only stop the horror with something none of the others seemed bright enough to come up with on their own -- a constructive suggestion. "Well, then, if we're looking for a live girl and not a dead one, we have to ask ourselves what would make a Slayer in her right mind -- insofar as Buffy possesses one -- take off to miss all the holiday fun. I'm thinking hypnotic control, myself."  
  
"Yeah -- yeah!" Willow said, seizing on the idea. "Or -- there are demons that can control minds, right, Giles? I know there are some dark magic spells about it."  
  
"So, yet again, crisis and terror lead to more research," Xander said. He, too, was visibly cheered by Spike's suggestion.   
  
"That's one of the first topics we'll examine," Giles said. "We need to see if any of the more notorious mind-altering entities have made recent appearances in town. Anya, perhaps you could make a holiday visit to Willy the Snitch."  
  
"Works for me," Anya said. "He's the only guy in town who doesn't card."  
  
Spike watched Giles decide to ignore that. "I've done a bit of searching on my own, and I don't think Buffy has simply been injured. I found no evidence of her, and if she were not immobilized, she would certainly have found her way to help and safety by now."  
  
"You went looking for Buffy alone?" Willow said. "Giles, you should have told us."  
  
"Yes, well, there was no point in worrying you further," Giles said. "There is also the possibility that she has been captured. Perhaps held hostage."  
  
Now, that brought up memories -- of better times, better plans. Back when he could dream of finer things than helping these morons chase down and kill demons he liked so much better than any of them.   
  
Spike, old man, he told himself, don't think about it. You'll only drive yourself mad.  
  
"But that doesn't make any sense," Anya said. "I mean, you hold somebody hostage for ransom. Or to get somebody else in return. So wouldn't whoever or whatever need to get in touch with us? To ask for whatever it wants?"  
  
"They simply may not have done so yet," Giles said.  
  
"That, or you're not the ones they'd call," Spike said. "Hate to point out the obvious here, but Angel's probably got a lot more to deliver, on the supernatural front, than any of you. And I can't think of any better way to motivate him than stealing his lady fair."  
  
"Well, if somebody had called Angel, he would've called us," Willow said.   
  
"Again -- they may be biding their time," Giles said. "Finally, we must consider the idea that her memory has been tampered with in some way. Could be as simple as a blow to the head. Xander, I thought that perhaps you and I might make a tour of the area hospitals this evening."  
  
"Works for me," Xander said, grabbing up his coat.  
  
"And that leaves me and Red here with the books, does it?" Spike said.  
  
"Yes," Giles said absently, as he wound his muffler around his neck. "Look up anything and everything connected to mind control."  
  
"Not a problem," Spike muttered, looking over at the redhead beside him and smiling ever so slightly.  
  
Giles and Xander headed out into the cold, with Anya following close behind. "I wonder if Willy has any mead in stock," she said as she closed the door behind them.  
  
And that left him alone with Willow, in a darkened apartment illuminated chiefly by Christmas tree lights. Spike got up from the sofa, stretched nonchalantly and slipped off his leather duster. "You look a bit tired, Willow," he said. "Think perhaps you'd like a bit of the eggnog?"  
  
"I'm not much for eggnog," Willow said. "But --" she looked up at him a bit guiltily, "I think the occasion could possibly call for, uh, something bracing."  
  
"A nice medicinal brandy should do the trick," Spike said, pouring a bit more lavishly than Giles would have done. "Here you go."   
  
Willow had already tugged out a couple of books; she exchanged one of them for the glass. Spike absentmindedly began flipping through it. He was at least mildly interested in finding what might have snatched Buffy away; after thanking it for the welcome break from the simpering Slayer's company, he was going to get to kill it and wanted to know exactly what cutting, slashing, or crushing tools would be right for the occasion. But he was far more interested in discovering just how much comforting Willow might need.  
  
"How are you holding up there, Red?" he said, all diffidence.  
  
She smiled at him again, that wonderfully luminous, ingenuous smile that sometimes warmed him despite himself. "I'm all right," she said. "Thanks for asking."  
  
"Must've been a rotter of a Christmas for you," Spike said. "All worried and anxious and all."  
  
Willow shrugged. "I did try to do some stuff between my 80 obsessive phone calls over here," she said. "I reread 'Pride and Prejudice' -- the whole thing. I watched TV. I even talked to my parents some, which was totally weird, but, whatever. Looked at my postcard."  
  
"Postcard?"  
  
"From Tara," Willow said. "She's a new friend of mine. She's off somewhere over the holiday break -- she didn't tell me where. You'd think the postcard would say, but no -- here, have a look."  
  
From her bag, Willow fished out a glossy postcard bearing the image of robins on a snow-covered pine branch. Spike took it and flipped it over -- sure enough, no postmark. Just spidery, delicate handwriting in indigo ink:  
  
"Willow -- Last time I was here it was summer. I went out into the meadow at night, and it was full of fireflies; I thought it was like a field of stars, and I thought it would never be that beautiful again. But I went again last night. There was snow on the ground, and in the moonlight it looked like stars all over again. I wish you could have seen it. Maybe I can find a way to show you. I miss you. -- Tara"  
  
Spike raised his eyebrows. This was a love letter, pure and simple -- was it possible Willow didn't know? She couldn't be that innocent, could she? He watched her face as he handed it back to her; she smiled slightly -- not at him, but at unseen memory -- as she took it back. No, he realized, she doesn't know yet, but she's starting to figure it out.  
  
Well, that was a surprise. For the hundreth time, Spike cursed himself for being such a moron as not to turn Willow when he'd had the chance. God, what a time they'd have had.  
  
As it was, it looked like that train had left the station.  
  
"I believe I'm going to have a brandy myself," Spike said, rising from the sofa.  
  
"You do that," Willow said, opening up her book without so much as a sideways glance.  
  
  
  
The day after Christmas was even more disturbing than Christmas. Giles went to the police and officially filed a missing-persons report; though this was unlikely to do any good, there seemed no point in not doing anything they could. Later, after some significant failures to get his courage together, Giles did finally attempt to call Mrs. Summers in Africa. He was ashamed of his own relief when he failed to get through.  
  
Willow did a bit of inspired hacking and discovered that nobody had been charging with Buffy's credit cards, nor had anyone using Buffy's name bought an airline ticket in the last 60 days. After some serious conscience-searching, Willow had even opened up Buffy's journal; unfortunately, Buffy was not the most dedicated diarist in the world and had made no entries since her brief trip to L.A.   
  
Xander, however, was quite sure that he had the worst of the bargain. Not only did he get to make the oh-so-cheery morgue search, but, after darkness fell, he got the unexpected pleasure of taking Spike and Anya to the mall.  
  
"Three in red, and three in black," Spike said to the clerk.  
  
"You don't think you might want to branch out?" Xander said irritably. "I mean, after dressing the same way for a hundred years, you don't want any variety?"  
  
Spike cast a withering look at Xander's Powerpuff Girls sweatshirt. "I know what works for me. Taking fashion advice from you does not work for me. And I can't go looking for your friend in the same t-shirt and jeans I've had to wear all bloody week. Three in red, three in black," he repeated, and the clerk hurried off.  
  
"I can't believe you can even think about your wardrobe at a time like this," Xander said. "And I really can't believe my girlfriend can think about your wardrobe at a time like this."  
  
Anya hugged him from behind. "Oh, Xander. Be reasonable. I mean, you've been really creative about places for us to have sex, and it's all really exciting, but my back is killing me after last night. Who designed the back seat of a Citroen, anyway? Some sexless terrorist, if you ask me."  
  
The clerk returned with the shirts; Anya disentangled herself from Xander to proudly present her Visa. Xander shook his head. "Spike, you are a dirty opportunist."  
  
"Guilty as charged," Spike said. "And would you mind telling Red that? She's about to kill me with all this morally-ambiguous talk."  
  
As they headed out into the crowded mall corridors, Anya pointed at a sign one level above them. "Oooh, Suncoast. Let's run in there."  
  
"What, Spike gets movies now?" Xander snapped as they got on the escalator.  
  
"Spike, you can have any movie you want, as long as you agree to watch it over at Giles' house. Lots of times. What do you say?" Anya asked.  
  
"You're on, ducks," Spike said, cramming his shopping bag into the deep pockets of his duster.   
  
As they moved upstairs, traveling beneath the enormous fiberglass candy canes that served as mall decor, Anya leaned forward to whisper into Xander's ear. "I hear they carry the unrated version of 'Kama Sutra.'"  
  
"Well, that's a little more like it," Xander said.  
  
Unlike most of the stores in the mall, Suncoast was almost empty. Xander glanced up at the big mirrors high on the wall as the three of them entered; only he and Anya were reflected there, which kind of creeped him out. "Guess nobody returns the gift of film," Xander said.   
  
"Now, would 'Kama Sutra' be drama or action?" Anya asked.  
  
As Xander and Anya started searching the shelves, Spike headed back to the "box sets" section. He heard some other customers come in, but paid that no mind; he was determined to get the most out of the Hormonal Twins' sexual desperation. "Kubrick -- Kubrick --" he muttered, "ah, there."  
  
He lifted up the set; "Lolita" wasn't half as much fun as you'd think, what with the promise of pedophilia and all, but "A Clockwork Orange," "The Shining" -- good times for all.   
  
The place was packed now. Xander glanced over at Anya. "Dating you should have made me immune to embarrassment, but apparently not," he said. "Why is it the place fills up just when I'm ready to buy a dirty movie?"  
  
"Let's just check out," Anya said with a gleam in her eye.   
  
Xander went up to the register; there was only one man ahead of him. Xander glanced at that guy's movies, hoping for some "Playboy Collection" tapes that would reduce his own embarrassment. No such luck; this guy was buying all three "Home Alone" movies and "Raiders of the Lost Ark." He sighed. "Hey, hurry up back there," Xander called. "Time to go."  
  
Spike had been getting ready to get in line anyway, but decided to wait a few minutes to annoy Xander. Besides, that gave him a chance to check out the Hitchcock set -- nothing like "Psycho" for laughs --  
  
As he reached for it, his hand bumped into another's -- a feminine hand that had been reaching for the "Titanic: Special Edition" set on the other side. Spike slowly looked over to see Harmony standing next to him. "Oh, Merry bloody Christmas," Spike snarled.  
  
To his surprise, Harmony neither cried nor pouted. Instead, a self-satisfied smile spread across her face. "It has been, actually," she said. "And I have you to thank."  
  
Xander glanced over his shoulder in irritation; his eyes widened as he recognized the figure standing next to Spike. "Isn't that--?"  
  
Anya elbowed him hard in the ribs. When he looked back at her, she pointed up at the mirror.  
  
Xander looked up and saw that, out of the two dozen people now jammed into the store -- he and Anya were still the only two casting reflections.  
  
"Uh-oh," he said.  
  
  
CONTINUED IN PART FOUR  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimers, et al, in Part 1 --  
  
  
*********************  
IN HARM'S WAY  
by Yahtzee  
Yahtzee63@aol.com  
*********************  
  
Part 4  
  
  
  
"We got trouble," Anya said.  
  
"Right here in River City," Xander muttered back. The guy in front of him -- the vampire in front of him -- glanced backward, an unpleasant gleam in his eye.  
  
In the back of the store, Harmony folded her hands across her chest and lifted her chin. "I should say, I was having a good Christmas. It's gone downhill now that I've run into you."  
  
"I'm as not-thrilled to see you as you are me," Spike snapped, "so what say you come back for your little movie some other time?"  
  
"You know, Spike, you're this big, bad vampire, or at least you used to be," Harmony said. "And you've been all these places, and you've done all this stuff, and maybe the entire rest of the world is your turf. But the mall is MINE."  
  
"Harmony, are you okay?" Gregory said, leaning out of the Tai Chi section. "Oh. Uh, hi, Spike."   
  
Spike remembered Gregory, a candy-assed little suckup, destined not to make it more than five years after his death even if he was lucky. But Gregory wasn't sucking up right now. He was looking at Spike with a decidedly unfriendly glare -- as were the other vampires in the store.  
  
"When did vampires start hanging out at the mall?" Spike wondered aloud. "Time was when we preferred crypts. Desecrated altars. Studio 54. Nobody's got any standards anymore -- not that you had many to begin with, Gregory, but if you're pandering to Harmony, you've come down in the world."  
  
"I think you're the one who's come down, Spike," Gregory said. His words, and Harmony's brilliant smile of gratitude, ignited a not-entirely-unwelcome rush of rage within Spike. "Harmony's given us the Slayer."  
  
"Given you the Slayer?" Spike looked sharply at Harmony, whose smile was suddenly a little less brilliant. "Well, isn't that interesting --"  
"Now this town is ours again," Gregory said. "What have you done for us lately?"  
  
"It's not what I've done," Spike said. "It's what I'm about to do."  
  
Xander wasn't able to hear what was going on in the back of the store, but he got the gist of it as Spike went demon-faced, grabbed the vampire near him and threw him over the video racks and into an enormous poster of Sean Connery. As Anya yelped in surprise, and Sean and the vampire fell to the ground together, Xander said, "Houston, we have a problem."  
  
"No, you do," said the vampire in the front of the line, shifting into vamp mode himself. The Suncoast clerk screamed and hit a yellow switch on the wall; lights began blinking, and a computerized voice began speaking:  
  
"Security to A-57. Security to A-57."  
  
And all hell broke loose.  
  
Harmony screamed, "You -- big -- bully!" and punched Spike in the nose. Spike barely flinched before shoving her sideways into the wall, sending box sets flying throughout the store.  
  
The vampire in line grabbed Xander's sweatshirt; Xander kneed the guy hard in the groin. As it turned out, some nerves were apparently even more sensitive after death; the vampire fell over, groaning. Anya yelled, "Spike? I think we should be leaving!"  
  
"The fun is just getting started!" Spike said as he smashed the Kubrick box set into -- and almost through -- the face of a vampire who had run to Harmony's side.   
  
Security guards came jogging toward the store. Harmony, jumping up from the floor, cried out, "Mall fight! Let's do some damage!"  
  
The vampires all cheered and began rushing out of the store. A couple of them pounced on the security guards. Others started clutching at passers-by. "Spike!" Xander yelled over his shoulder. "All that slaying you wanted to do?"  
  
"I'm on it!" Spike yelled as he ran forward, a grin on his face.   
  
Anya slid her backpack off and swung it, hard, into one of the vampires who'd grabbed a security guard. It slid sideways, which allowed the shaken guard to grab his gun and fire. The vampire fell over -- not dead, of course, not even down for long, but out for a moment. Anya looked back at Xander and Spike, who had caught up with her outside Suncoast. "Wood. We need wood. NOW."  
  
"No problem," Xander panted, as he slugged another vampire. "We're at the mall. We can get anything at the mall, right?" All around them, people had begun screaming and running -- and, unbelievably, grabbing stuff from the stores. "We can today, anyway."  
  
Spike grabbed the dazed Gregory on his way out of the store and smashed his head into the mall directory. It cracked satisfyingly as Gregory fell in a heap. "Sounds grand. So, where's Stakes-R-Us?"  
  
"Uh --" Xander racked his brains. Where did you get wood at the mall, anyway? "Pier One! Now!"  
  
Pier One, fortunately, was only three stores to the left -- the direction in which most of the marauding vampires were headed. A small kiosk in the middle sold golfing equipment; as they ran past, Spike grabbed up a putter. "Little more like it!" he yelled, swinging it solidly into another vampire's head; she fell, screaming, over a nearby railing and down two levels to the bottom floor.   
  
"Spike! You bastard!" Harmony yelled. She was actually running after them, in full vamp face, utterly furious. "She's wearing my jacket! I'm never getting the stains out of it now!"  
  
"Stupid bint," Spike growled, drawing the club back to see if he could smack her skull hard enough for decapitation. "Shouldn't have let me catch on to your game --"  
  
"Spike!" Xander screamed. Spike wheeled around to see a cackling vampire dangling Xander over the railing -- and the long drop to the bottom -- by one ankle. After the first thrill of anticipation, Spike realized that, technically, he ought to helping Xander out.   
  
"Damn," he muttered, and turned away from Harmony.   
  
The cackling vampire gave Xander a good, pre-death shake -- before being grabbed by Anya. She pulled backward fiercely, hissing, "Get my boyfriend back over here!"  
  
In response, the vampire let go of Xander -- just as Spike lunged forward and grabbed him. Furious, Anya threw the vampire to the ground and smashed into his face with the high heel of her boot.   
  
"Oh, honey, gross!" Xander said as Spike pulled him back over the side. "I mean, thanks, but -- gross --"  
  
"Get prissy later," Anya said. "Get wood now."  
  
They ran into Pier One, where a surprising number of looters seemed interested in scented candles. Xander, Anya and Spike all ran toward the back. "Furniture, furniture --" Xander said. "Yes!"  
  
"We're gonna kill vampires with papasan chairs?" Anya said.  
  
"At last they're good for something," Xander said.  
  
But Spike was shaking his head. "No, no, no."  
  
"What?"  
  
"This is rattan!" Spike said. "You can't bloody stake someone with bloody rattan, now, can you? And what is this? Wicker? What kind of crap furniture do they sell here, anyway?"  
  
"Uh, crap, basically," Xander said. "Damn!"  
  
"Food court," Anya said.  
  
"You're hungry?" Xander said.  
  
"Panda Express!" Anya yelled, grabbing both Spike and Xander to start towing them toward the door. "Chinese food!"  
  
All three of them yelled the next word together: "Chopsticks!"  
  
They ran out of Pier One into the mall corridors -- and total bedlam. People scurried about with merchandise stuffed in their clothes, under their arms. At least a dozen fistfights were taking place on the top level alone -- and, at least as far as Xander could tell, none of them involved vampires. But there was one body lying still on the ground near the sporting-goods kiosk. From the corpse's already-pale skin, Xander was guessing somebody had had a snack. Over the PA, the song "Sleigh Ride" was playing in strange accompaniment."We gotta stop this," Xander said.  
  
"They're headed down," Spike said, hurrying toward the escalators. Sure enough, Harmony and some of the others were running toward the lower levels, shoving people out of their way as they went.   
  
Xander and Anya started after them; Spike instead jumped up onto the railing of the up escalator and began running down it with inhuman speed and balance. He went a couple of steps past the group of vampires, then around and swung the club into their midst, clotheslining quite a few. Harmony was among the few who managed to duck.  
  
"You just can't accept that I've moved on, can you?" she taunted.  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Every time I think you can't get stupider -- aghh!" The upward motion of the escalator railing had smacked him into one of the fiberglass candy canes. Harmony laughed and ran away as Spike stumbled onto the down escalator and into Xander and Anya..  
  
"Very smooth," Xander said. "I'm so glad you're here to help us out with this."  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure you'd have liked to handle that plummeting-to-your-death bit on your own," Spike said. "Where the hell is this panda restaurant?"  
  
Anya towed the guys to their feet as they got to the bottom of the escalator. "Food court's to the left," she panted. "Panda Express is against the far wall --"  
  
Several of the vampires were reinterpreting the term "food court." Xander looked around in horror at the four -- no, five -- vamp attacks he could see. "Oh, damn. You guys go --"  
  
"Xander?" Anya cried over her shoulder as she and Spike ran toward Panda Express. "Don't get heroic!"  
  
"Too late," Xander muttered, picking up a chair and swinging it into one of the attacking vampires' back. She dropped her victim -- who sank to his knees, pale but alive -- and sprang at Xander. Xander, who knew very well that discretion was the easiest part of valor, sidestepped her neatly, allowing her to fall into the trash bin.  
  
"Smooth move, Tess!" Harmony called. She was helping herself to some TCBY yogurt, while another vampire helped herself to the TCBY clerk.  
  
"Bitch," Tess growled. She leapt off the ground and -- to Xander's shock and relief -- ran past him, away from the fight and Harmony. Xander shook his head and took off toward one of the other feeding vampires, chair in hand.  
  
Anya skidded to a stop at the Panda Express counter; Spike didn't bother with skidding, but just vaulted over the cash register to land in the serving area. The terrified staff just stared at them both. "Chopsticks!" Anya said, breathless. "We need chopsticks!"  
  
The clerks just stood there, stupefied. Spike rolled his eyes and started rummaging through the bins himself -- then held up a small, plastic tool and stared at it. "What the hell is this?"  
  
"It's a spork," Anya said. "They only have sporks?"  
  
Spike pulled himself up, eye to eye, with the manager. "I just want you to know, for the record, that if I could kill you with this -- spork -- I'd do it. Spend a lot of time envisioning how that would work, will you? I haven't got time to think through the details myself." He jumped back over the counter. "Now what?"  
  
"Save Xander!" Anya said, pointing in his direction. He was surrounded by four vampires, all of whom were closing in.  
  
"Do you have to put it like that?" Spike said, even as he started forward. He grabbed another chair and smashed it against the floor so that it broke into so much metal. Spike grabbed the two longest pieces and jumped back into the fray.  
  
"About time!" Xander panted. He'd been kicked in the face, and blood was running down his temple.   
  
"Take a bar," Spike said, tossing one to him. "Start swinging." Instead of taking his own advice, Spike simply wrapped his fist around his bar and punched a vampire in the jaw. The crunch of bone was audible even over the screams of the crowd and the still-cheery PA music.  
  
Xander did just that, slashing the two closest vampires across their chests. Each of them hissed and drew back -- they weren't that seriously hurt, but it was still more than they were looking for. Xander feinted toward them, and they bolted. Just as he started to feel sort of impressive, he realized they weren't running away from him as much as they were running toward the panicked, defenseless people everywhere else in the mall. "Oh, God, this is horrible."  
  
"Speak for yourself," Spike said, using his metal bar to further pummel the semiconscious vampire at his feet. "I don't know when I've had this much fun."  
  
"Where's Anya?" Xander said.  
  
Anya had found another mall directory; as vampires jumped and looters shouted and people fled all around her, she was running her finger down the store list, talking to herself. "Radio Shack. No. Sbarro. No. Spencer Gifts. No." As Xander and Spike ran to her side, she looked over at them, disgusted. "Do you realize that there is no wood at the mall?"  
  
"Don't know how I ever missed it before," Xander panted. "You okay?"  
  
She was already studying the directory again. "T -- U -- oh, wait. Wait! Williams Sonoma!"  
  
"Let's move --" Xander said.  
  
They ran down to the next level. Fortunately, yet again, the vampires had moved with them. "You think they're headed out?" Anya called as they raced down the escalator.  
  
"If I know Harmony, she's going straight for The Limited," Spike said.   
  
"Hope you're right," Anya said. "It's right next door."  
  
As he ran, Xander dazedly noticed that some places -- Camelot Music, Bath and Body Works -- were getting looted like crazy, while others were being left almost alone. Payless, for instance. "That figures," he muttered to himself. "Nobody wants to try on shoes during a riot."  
  
Williams Sonoma, from the look of things, was in the latter category. Only a few shoppers were inside, and most of them seemed to be attempting to hide behind display racks of extra-virgin olive oil. Some of those shoppers screamed as the three of them came tearing into the store. "It's all right!" Xander said. Behind him, a big-screen TV, apparently pushed over the third-floor railing, came smashing down to the ground. "Um -- amend that to -- it's gonna be all right."  
  
Anya grabbed the clerk behind the counter and said one word: "Spoons."  
  
"In the back, to the right, by the cutting boards," the clerk whimpered.  
  
Anya and Xander ran to the back; sure enough, dozens of wooden spoons were clustered in canisters all around. Anya dumped several into her backpack as Xander started tucking them into his pockets, his waistband, anywhere. "Spike?" Xander yelled. "You gonna get armed or what?"  
  
"Oh, I'm armed," Spike said. Xander and Anya looked over to see him standing on a table in the cutlery section; he was holding up an enormous meat cleaver that looked like it could take the head off a cow. "Now, we've got ourselves a party."  
  
  
  
Inside The Limited, Harmony twirled in place in front of a few of her new girlfriends, modeling her new sweater, stepping neatly over the dead store manager. "So, what do you think? Be honest. I mean, I always looked good in pink before, but maybe my complexion's changed, what with being dead and -- Spike!"  
  
From his place alongside the sale rack, Spike grinned. "Honest opinion?" he said, lifting up the meat cleaver. "It DOES make you look fat."   
  
The vampires all screamed -- at any rate, all but the one nearest Spike. The cleaver swung through her neck, decapitating her and smashing her into dust.   
  
Harmony bolted. Spike took off after her. "Leave her alone!" one of the other vampires cried, and began to run after him -- but was stopped by Anya, who plunged a spoon handle deep into her chest, dusting her.   
  
"This is more like it," Xander said, as he polished off one of his own. "Glad we could -- ugh--"  
  
"Xander, what's wrong?"  
  
"Got vampire up my nose," Xander said, sneezing. "Come on, let's finish this."  
  
Harmony and Spike were both out of sight by the time Anya and Xander got into the corridor; however, Spike's handiwork was evident. Little piles of dust created a trail back out through the mall. Once Xander and Anya got to staking in earnest, the surviving vampires soon realized that playtime was over. Soon, the only vampires they could see were running away.  
  
"Where's Spike?" Anya said.  
  
"Who cares?" Xander said.  
  
"He saved your life," Anya said. "Xander, if something had happened to you --"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Anya looked down at the ground. "I wouldn't like it."  
  
"I'm moved," Xander said dryly. But the funny thing was -- he was moved, at least a little. For Anya, that was downright mushy. "Never fear. Mr. Clairol's probably doing something wholesome, like murdering his ex-girlfriend. We'll catch up with him back at Giles'."  
  
"Why are we headed to Giles' house?"  
  
"He's got to hear about this," Xander said slowly. "I want to know if -- if this means what I think it means."  
  
  
  
Despite both his and Xander's fervent wishes, Spike was not murdering Harmony. He had given her a good chase, but she managed to lose him somewhere in Macy's. Disappointing though this was, he still had plenty to do -- he decapitated at least five more vampires before the rest of the undead cleared out.   
  
Spike swaggered out of Zales' Jewelers after dusting the last vampire and helping himself to a sharp new watch. He took a long look around him. Humans were still running around, screaming, grabbing items from almost every store. Shop windows were smashed, trash bins had been upended, and clothes and bags were strewn around the floor. One of the escalators was making a very strange humming sound and sending sparks flying. A small fire seemed to have started in the movie-theater concession area, and the sprinkler systems over there had kicked in. Over the PA system, Elvis was crooning "Blue Christmas."  
  
"I love the holidays," Spike said.  
  
  
  
  
"This totally sucks," Harm said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I mean, he coulda just said, you know, you're looking good, or something. He didn't have to be a total creep about it."  
  
"It's hard for some people to admit they're wrong," Gregory said, putting an arm around Harm's shoulders. "He's probably still so torn up over losing you -- over wasting his chance --"  
  
"He's hanging around with the Slayer's friends," Tess said. She was staring at Harm and Gregory, fists clenched. "That's gotta mean something. We ought to figure out what that is, instead of sitting here while Harm goes crybaby on us."  
  
"Back off, Tess," one of the other vampires said. "What do we care about the Slayer's friends? We got the Slayer." The other vampires murmured approval, and Tess's expression grew still darker as Harmony nodded.  
  
"I don't care where he goes or what he does anymore," Harm said. "I really don't. I'm moving on."  
  
Gregory smiled at her. "You're so brave."  
  
Tess stomped out.  
  
Buffy lay still in her cage in the center of the gym, her breathing slow and even, her heartbeat steady. Nobody -- not even a vampire -- could have guessed that she was, in fact, awake.  
  
In the last day or so, Buffy realized, the drug had started to lose some of its effect on her. It still knocked her out -- but not as deeply, nor for as long. Her Slayer's body, ever adaptive, had begun compensating for the tranquilizer's effects. Buffy thought she might have been able to throw off the drug entirely by now, if only they hadn't been draining her blood, over and over.  
  
As it was -- she could hold on.  
  
And when her friends came to get her -- when Angel came through that door again -- she'd be able to help them.  
  
Soon, she promised herself. They'll be here soon.  
  
  
  
  
"The top story tonight comes from Sunnydale; just when you thought Pokemon fever was over, a riot breaks out in the mall. That's right -- the Sunnydale mall was overrun with panicking, rioting shoppers tonight, an incident management attributes to parents crazy to get their hands on Pokemon toys, such as the whimsical Pikachu --"  
  
Willow looked up from the TV when she heard the door open; her mouth dropped open at the sight of Anya and Xander, disheveled and dirty. "Xander! Did you get caught in the toy riot?"  
  
"If that was a toy riot, I never want to see a real one," Xander said wearily. "That riot had real moving parts. Not for ages under three."  
  
"It was more like a vampire riot," Anya said.   
  
"Vampires?" Giles said, stepping out of the kitchen. "In the mall?"  
  
"Maybe two, three dozen of them" Xander said. "And they weren't scared of anything, at least not until Spike got the meat cleaver."  
  
"Spike had a what?" Willow said.  
  
Giles shook his head. "Let's stay focused, shall we? You say they attacked openly --"  
  
Xander nodded. "I've never seen anything like that. Giles, it's like -- it's like they knew."  
  
"Knew what?" Willow asked.  
  
"You mean -- they knew that Buffy would not be there to stop them," Giles said quietly.  
  
"Yeah," Xander said. "But, that could mean a lot of things, right? Right?"  
  
Giles nodded, but his face had gone pale and still. He slowly lowered himself into a nearby chair.  
  
"Oh, no," Willow whispered. "No."  
  
"God DAMN, what a party that was," Spike said, swinging merrily through the door. "And here I thought Boxing Day wasn't celebrated in the States."  
  
"Spike, this is not the time," Giles snapped. "We have -- more pressing concerns --"  
  
"The way I see it, your troubles are all but over," Spike said.   
  
"How do you figure that?" Xander said.  
  
"All that noise at the mall tonight, you know what that means?" When the others just looked at him blankly, Spike smiled. "Your Slayer's alive."  
  
  
CONTINUED PART FIVE  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimers, et al, in Part 1 --  
  
  
*******************  
IN HARM'S WAY  
by Yahtzee  
Yahtzee63@aol.com  
*******************  
  
Part 5  
  
  
  
"Alive? Buffy's alive?" Willow gasped, jumping to her feet.  
  
Giles clutched Spike's arm. "Are you quite sure?"  
  
"Yeah, positive," Spike said. "Should be able to get her back in a jif --"  
  
His words were cut off when Willow flung herself at him and wrapped him in an enthusiastic embrace, then stepped back, somewhat abashed. Giles sank back into his chair, wearing an expression of the profoundest relief. Even Anya's face had lit up. Xander shook his head and said, "Spike, all those nasty things I've said about you? I take -- three of 'em back."  
  
Preening in the unaccustomed light of approval, Spike elaborated, "Yeah, looks like Harmony and that lot have Buffy locked up."  
  
"Harmony?" Willow said. "She's involved in this?"  
  
"Apparently she's making like the ringleader --"  
  
"Harmony?" Xander repeated. "Can't be. Harmony couldn't organize anything more complex than her earring collection."  
  
"Maybe she just organized the trip to the mall," Willow said. "But what's happening with Buffy?"  
  
"They've got her locked up and drugged. Tranquilizers, you see?" Spike said. "Keeps her from fighting back."  
  
"Why drug her?" Giles said. "Rather, why drug her and then keep her alive? Do they want something from us?"  
  
"They've got what they want," Spike said. "A Slayer who can't fight them, and a guarantee that no other Slayer's going to show up and ruin the party."  
"Of course," Giles said. "If Buffy were killed, they would run the risk of another Slayer taking her place in Sunnydale. But by keeping her captive, they remove the threat entirely."  
  
"Plus they get snacks," Spike said.  
  
"What do you mean?" Willow said.  
  
Giles looked pale again. "They're -- feeding from her?"  
  
"Keeps her weak. Makes them strong," Spike said.   
  
Xander swore under his breath. Willow put one hand over her mouth, but did not speak.  
  
Giles shook his head. "This is -- repellent. Hideous. Evil, and yet ingenious."  
  
"Thank you," Spike said.  
  
"Beg pardon?" Giles said.  
  
"Well, you didn't think Harmony came up with something that bright, did you?" Spike said. "Hell, no. That was my plan."  
  
The room was quiet for a long minute. Then Xander said slowly, "You mean -- this is something you were planning to do to Buffy."  
  
"Yep," Spike said easily. "After that whole Gem-of-Amarra fiasco, I was ready for some quality revenge, you know? I'd come up with the idea before, more for larks than anything else. Didn't mean to spend all that much time in Sunnydale, but it was something to tell Harmony about. It was about the only thing that would make her shut up about going to sodding France."  
  
"France?" Anya said.  
  
Spike ignored her. "Anyway, I came back here, ready to get my act together and go, and then the commandos got me. You know the rest of the story --"  
  
"You were going to do this to Buffy," Xander repeated, and Spike realized that the blankness he had taken for the Scooby Gang's usual slack-jawed incomprehension was, in fact, only the first stage of intense anger. "You were gonna chain her up and feed off her, Spike? That your big plan?"  
  
"You bastard," Giles hissed.   
  
"Hey, that was before the new Spike-and-Scoobies alliance," Spike said, looking uneasily at the wooden spoons still sticking out of Xander's coat pockets. "Water under the bridge, right?"  
  
Willow sobbed once, a small, broken sound. Giles stepped close and took Spike's collar in his fist. "Where -- are -- they?"  
  
"I'd planned on using the high school," Spike said quickly. "Only place in town nobody goes anymore."  
  
"Thanks ever so," Giles said, then pointed at the door. "Now get out."  
  
"Get out?" Spike said. "Are you mad? You're going to need my help --"  
  
"You've helped enough," Xander said. "Go before one of us wises up enough to stake you dead. Er."  
  
Spike stood there for a minute, hands on his hips. "This is a fine howdoyado. I save your asses repeatedly, not to mention the asses of tons of stupid, innocent mouth-breathers at the mall. Then I come back and explain what's happened to your Slayer, and you're all up in arms about some big talking I did months ago --"  
  
"Don't start counting off all the good stuff you've done," Willow snapped. "You're not going to convince us you're the good guy here, no matter how hard you try."  
  
Spike's jaw dropped, and he looked at her for a moment in pure horror. Then he spun on his heel and stalked out into the night.  
  
The others remained in silence for a moment; Giles was the first to speak. "Right, then. We've got to move against the vampires at the high school. How many were at the mall?"  
  
"Somewhere between two and three dozen," Anya said. "I think the three of us took out a little more than a dozen."  
  
"Good," Giles said, moving quickly to his chest of weapons and kneeling to open it. "They would not have left Buffy unguarded. We'll operate under the presumption that there are two dozen vampires at the school."  
  
"Yeesh," Willow said. "Slayerless, that's not gonna be easy --"  
  
"Time to call Angel," Xander said evenly.  
  
"You want me to --"  
  
"That's okay, Willow. I'll call," Xander said, going to the phone.  
  
Giles looked up at Willow. "Even with Angel's help, we'll be at a disadvantage. If you could think of any spells that could assist us --"  
  
Willow smacked the side of her head. "Oh, so dumb. Of course! A sleep spell -- not so effective on individuals, but really good for crowds. The energy from each person, like, reverbs -- okay. Too much detail. But, I'm just saying, good spell, really obvious spell, stupid not to think of it right away."  
  
"No," Giles said, managing to smile as he stood and touched her shoulder. "You're right on time."  
  
Xander, meanwhile, was drumming his fingers on the desk as the phone rang. He steeled himself for the outrage that was likely, once he told Angel they'd let Buffy get hurt.  
  
Instead, he next heard the recorded voice of his ex-girlfriend. "Angel Investigations! We help the hopeless. If that's you, leave a message after the tone."  
  
"Cordy -- hey. It's Xander. Listen, we have trouble, big trouble, and we need Angel up here pronto. It turns out Buffy's been taken prisoner. There's all these vampires, and they've got her, like, locked up at the old high school. It seems like Harmony's in charge of it all, though I kinda doubt it -- uh, did we mention that Harmony's a vampire now? Sorry if that was a shock. But she is. And Buffy's in trouble. And we're going to get in that high school as soon as we can, and there's about two dozen vampires in there, so some Angel help would be real nice right about now. Call when you get this. Or just get Angel here as soon as you get this. Right. Thanks. Bye."  
  
Xander hung up and glanced over at Willow. "So, was I poised? Confident?"  
  
"Very," Willow said. Anya had an expression on her face that suggested she had just remembered how close Xander and Cordelia used to be.  
  
Giles said, "Willow, what do you need to perform this spell?"  
  
"Just have to know the incantation, that's all," she said. "And I do."  
  
"Then we have two options," Giles said. "Angel was out, yes? That means we do not know when he will get our message. It would normally take him about two hours to get here, and I would be willing to wait that long. But longer -- " Giles shook his head as if to clear it. "We can wait for Angel to get our message and arrive, even though that may be many hours. That option is safer. Or we can move right now, trust our abilities, take our chances."  
  
Xander squared his shoulders. "Willow's got the knowhow, and I've seen you throw a punch. I say we go for it."  
  
Willow nodded. "Me too. I couldn't -- keep breathing -- knowing Buffy's trapped in there."  
  
Anya said, "I'm the only one who wants to wait for Angel, right?"  
  
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I wish Angel were here," Xander said. "All the same, I can't sit here on my hands waiting for the guy to check his voicemail."  
  
"He just seems like a very large, glowery, effective person," Anya said. "Ideal for this sort of occasion."  
  
"True and true," Xander said. "But Buffy's in trouble right this minute."  
  
"That settles it," Giles said. "Let's go."  
  
  
  
  
They arrived at the high school around 8 o'clock at night. Anya had a crossbow, Giles a broadsword, and Xander a hefty stake and a few leftover spoons. Willow's hands were empty, though she was, Giles knew, as well-armed as any of them -- with words instead of weapons. Yet she clutched briefly at the tiny bundle of herbs she wore around her neck.  
  
"I thought you said you needed no tools for the spell,"Giles said.  
  
"This isn't for the spell, exactly," Willow said. "It's just something my friend Tara gave me. It's a kind of positive-energy thingy. Like a RAM doubler for magic." Willow looked at him carefully for a moment, then sighed. "You were with me on the spells, but I lost you at the RAM doubler, right?"  
  
"Ah. Yes. It's not germane to our work here tonight?"  
  
"Nope," Willow said. "Now, where in the high school would they be?"  
  
"The library's toast," Xander said. "We all saw that for ourselves. Lotta ceiling gone there, lotta daylight coming in."  
  
"From the looks of things, that's true for pretty much the whole building," Anya said.  
  
"Look at it," Willow said softly. "We spent four years of our life here -- I mean, so much stuff happened here. And it's just in ruins. Like it never was."  
  
"Time -- takes everything, eventually," Giles said, slowly. He was looking at a tipped-over, chipped stone bench and remembering a brown-bag-and-thermos lunch there with Jenny Calendar, which seemed to have taken place in another lifetime. "It gives us new people, new experiences, but it always destroys the past."  
  
"And sometimes we help it along with a few hundred pounds of TNT," Xander said. "Think, people. Are they gonna be underground? I'm so not amped on our chances down in the basement, but at least I've done some exploring down there --"  
  
"With Cordelia," Anya muttered. Xander folded his arms across his chest.  
  
"Yeah, but the basement was pretty torn up by the blast, too," Willow said. "But look at the gym -- it's a little crispy around the edges, but it's pretty much in shape."  
  
"It's worth investigating," Giles said.   
  
They walked through the courtyard (where Willow first kissed Oz, where Xander asked Buffy to the prom), beneath the belltower (where Jonathan had tried to die), around the principal's office (where Snyder's face still stared from a few charred plaques) and toward the gym. They were all quiet; Giles wondered if the younger ones were, as he was, caught between the urgency of the moment and the memories of the past -- all rendered painful by the stark desolation around them.  
  
Not that many of the memories needed much help to be painful, he thought, as they walked by the classroom that had been hers.  
  
For her part, Willow was caught up in her own reverie. She saw different memories, but more memories than reality, at least until the two collided. As they approached the gym, Willow whispered, "Do you hear something?" Sure enough, music was playing -- not loudly, just somebody's portable stereo, cranking out the tunes. Willow flushed a little as she realized the tape was a homemade dub of a Dingoes show; that was Oz's guitar echoing slightly in the dark. "Okay, somebody's home."  
  
Giles murmured, "Are we certain these are the vampires?"  
  
Xander hissed, "Giles, take a look at this place, will you? Nobody's hanging here unless they really like the whole death-and-destruction vibe."  
  
"Doesn't matter anyway," Willow said. "The sleep spell works on humans or vampires. A few of them will probably slip through, but we should be able to handle that, right?"  
  
"We shall see," Giles said, with an encouraging smile. "How long will the spell give us?"  
  
"About half an hour."  
  
"More than enough," Xander said, gripping his stake a little more tightly. "It's showtime."  
  
Willow lifted her hands and began chanting softly: "Everan, melathan, summoned hence --" She felt the energy begin to swirl within her, around her, charging the air. Her hair fluttered in the created breeze, her skin tingled --  
  
Her eyes opened wide. Something was wrong, very wrong --  
  
The energy spun out of control in an instant. It crashed back into her, searing skin, jarring bone, oh god ripping through her --  
  
She screamed, the sound torn from her, as the energy exploded all around them, knocking them all through the air and onto the ground. And for a long, unknowable time, everything was white with sound and pain --  
  
Giles heard Xander cry out, "Willow?" He fought to catch his breath; he'd landed hard and flat a few feet from Xander, who was scrambling to Willow's side. Anya had already pushed herself upright, but blood was trickling down the side of her face. Willow was shaking as though in the throes of a seizure.  
  
Worse than all of this was the laughter he heard from the gym -- laughter that was coming closer.  
  
"I think they took the bait," someone said, as the gym door opened.   
  
"We gotta run," Xander said.  
  
Giles, who had struggled to his knees, pushed Xander toward Anya. "The two of you get out of here. I've got Willow."  
  
"But you need help --"  
  
"Xander, Anya, run!" Giles said, giving Xander a harder push. Xander obeyed, grabbing Anya's hand as he got to his feet and started running.  
  
"Where are we going?" Anya panted.  
  
"The Citroen," Xander said. "God, that guy has got to find another getaway car."  
  
Giles picked Willow up and tossed her over his shoulder, ignoring the muscles that were already shrieking in protest. Insensible, she trembled against him. He glanced behind him; the vampires were rounding the corner, cutting him off from the quickest way to the car. "Damn," he muttered as he ducked into the nearest building.  
  
He hurried down the hallway, hoping against hope the vampires would not follow. Just as he turned into a different corridor, he heard the doors open again, followed by the muted sound of laughter. Where to go, what to do --  
  
The back doors to the auditorium were near, and Giles hurried through them. At least this provided him with a few passages and cubbyholes -- places they could possibly hide, or better yet, places vampires could possibly get lost. Quickly, he stoooped to grab a vaguely stake-like piece of wood. He had dropped beloved broadsword outside, where the vampires pursuing them probably found it.   
  
Not a comforting thought.  
  
The auditorium had been decimated out front, but backstage seemed almost intact. The velvet curtains, though worn from exposure to weather, still hung there. Giles moved through them as quickly and quietly as he could. After a few moments, he realized Willow's shaking had stilled. "Willow?" he whispered.  
  
"Giles?" she murmured. "Where are we?"  
  
"Hiding," he said simply. She took the hint to be silent. He hurried through the red curtains, back behind the stage, through the lighting area. Electrical cords lay there, doing their inanimate best to trip him up as he tried to balance Willow's weight on his shoulder and move up the shaky steps toward the back door.  
  
A dull thud from the front of the stage announced that at least one vampire had tracked them this far.   
  
Giles hesitated at the door; opening it would make noise, tip off their pursuers, but there was nothing for it now. Just fling it open and run, he told himself. God willing, you can get Willow to the car --  
  
But the car was all the way around the building, and Willow seemed like dead weight on his middle-aged body, and there were a few more thuds on the stage --  
  
To hell with it, he thought, and burst through the door.  
  
Down the steps, running, feet sliding slightly in the gravel lot behind the auditorium, every step jarring him, his own ragged breath louder in his ears than the sound of the vampires crashing through the door behind them --  
  
And then the Citroen zoomed into the lot. The lights were on, and the horn was blaring; the car still didn't look impressive, but it was, apparently, surprising. Giles glanced behind him to see the pursing vampires standing still in shock, then realizing that the driver -- a very angry-looking Anya -- had no intention of hitting her brakes before she smashed into them. They leapt out of the way at the last possible moment. Most of them made it, but one made a very satisfying smack against the bumper before flying off out of the headlights' glare.  
  
"Giles!" Xander yelled from the passenger seat. "Get in here!"  
  
"The thought had occurred to me," Giles panted, staggering forward. Xander opened the door and grabbed Willow, dragging her into the back seat. Giles clambered in next to Anya, who hit the gas and pulled them out of the parking lot, even as more vampires ran up. Although Giles was pretty sure his car moved faster than a vampire, he was relieved to see that none of them were in pursuit.  
  
"Wil, you okay?" Xander said.  
  
Willow leaned against his shoulder, still unable to sit up on her own. "I think so."  
  
"However did you start the car?" Giles said, checking for and finding his keys in his pocket.  
  
"I can hotwire," Anya said simply. "Came in handy as a vengeance demon. A lot of guys are very attached to their cars. Sometimes, all the girls would ask me to do is smash the car into a tree or something. Not exactly challenging, but kinda satisfying, all the same."  
  
"Should I drive?" Giles asked.  
  
Willow had recovered enough to speak in something approaching her normal tone of voice. "Giles, what was that?"  
  
"An anti-magic charm," Giles said. "Designed to charge the energy in a location, make the mystical forces more -- chaotic. Virtually guarantees that any spell in a given area will go wrong."  
  
"How come you never told me about those?" Willow said tiredly.  
  
"They're rare. Only a very few people know how to do them. Actually, I once had a book that explained the spell --" Giles' voice trailed off.  
  
"Which book was that?" Willow asked.  
  
"That would be the one Spike had stolen from the library," Giles said. "Damn."  
  
"I would never say this to Spike's face, but he's one smart son of a bitch," Xander said. "The emphasis is on the son-of-a-bitch part, but the smart's there too. We have to deal with him, don't we?"  
  
"I believe we must," Giles said. "And we must hurry. The vampires now know that we're coming for Buffy. They'll try and move her as soon as possible."  
  
Or they could simply kill her, he thought but did not say. The game is over, and that's all they have to gain now.  
  
"We must hurry," he repeated.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Ohmigod, Harm, that anti-magic spell was, like, so amazing," one of the vampires said, tossing her red hair as she spoke.   
  
"Chill out, Aphrodesia," Tess said. "Stop glomming all over Harm for a minute, and think about what this means. They're coming for us."  
  
"They already came," Harm said. "And went away again."  
  
"You don't think they'll come back?" Tess said incredulously.  
  
"We've got other traps," Gregory said.  
  
"They've got other friends," Tess said. "I mean, we can deal with them tonight, maybe tomorrow. But after that? Then what? Wasn't she dating Angelus at one point? I thought I heard that. We haven't got anything here that would stop him -- not if what I've heard is true."   
  
This seemed to sink in to some of the other vampires. For the first time since Buffy's kidnapping, the mood in the room was of uncertainty instead of exhilaration. The vampires all looked to Harm to see what she would say.  
  
And she couldn't think of what to say.   
  
Spike had covered the bases, sure. He'd made her go over the plan often enough, even though he said she'd be lucky if he let her anywhere near the operation. So she'd known what to do at first. But after this point, she got a lot less certain. Spike's backup plan, just in case any of the Slayer's friends got into the school, had been to personally beat them senseless -- something he was still pretty good at, to judge from the fight at the mall. Harm wasn't sure she was up to that. Xander was kind of a wuss, but Willow might be able to figure out an anti-anti-magic spell, and that librarian had always creeped her out.   
  
"Harm?" Gregory said, looking up at her expectantly. Was that disappointment in his face?  
  
"We gotta move," Harm said with far more decisiveness than she felt. "We'll move first thing tomorrow. Right after sundown."  
  
"Move where?" Tess said, arms folded across her chest.  
  
"We have all day to figure it out," Harm said. That seemed to satisfy most of the vampires, and Harm tried to relax. It was all still working out. She just had to go with the moment.  
  
Nearby, Buffy was supposedly unconscious. She was actually just coming to, catching a few phrases here and there. The first words she was able to register and understand were, "We gotta move."  
  
Move, she thought dully. Move. They're taking me away. The others aren't going to be able to find me if they take me away --  
  
And then it hit her, like every horrible, terrible thing she'd ever seen crashing into her at once.   
  
They aren't coming.   
  
They aren't coming for me. I've been here for days and days and days, and they hurt me and they chained me up and they fed off me and they didn't come. Not Giles, not Willow, not Xander --  
  
Not Angel --  
  
Buffy slammed a wall down in her mind, shutting off her terror and her memories, everything besides this moment.   
  
I'm gonna get out of this, she swore silently. I'm just gonna have to do it myself.  
  
  
CONCLUDED IN PART SIX  
  
  
  



	6. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimers, etc., in Part 1 --  
  
  
  
********************  
IN HARM'S WAY  
by Yahtzee  
Yahtzee63@aol.com  
********************  
  
  
Part 6  
  
  
  
  
The blue lights were blinking off and on in the windows, and little red-and-gold foil Christmas trees were slanting on the bar, and Burl Ives was singing about a Holly Jolly Christmas.  
  
No place like Willy's for the holidays, Spike thought, before downing another scotch.   
  
Even Willy's was pretty much empty this time of year. Spike knew that demons and vampires weren't off eating fruitcake together, but they still seemed to have someplace better to be. The few exceptions -- some confused Korean vampires straight off the boat and a solitary Velga demon wearing a Santa hat -- were clustered in the back of the bar.  
  
Spike sat alone, staring at the amber liquid remaining in his glass.  
  
He hadn't just been shining Red -- Drusilla really did love the holidays. She liked the pretty lights and decorations, and all the bright, appetizing colors people would wear. He always spent weeks finding the perfect gift to steal for her.  
  
Funny -- in all those years, he wasn't sure she'd ever gotten him anything. Hadn't seemed to matter, before. Now that he thought about it, though --  
  
Willy, who was rubbing down the bar, looked up in genuine annoyance. "Not again, kid. Once I overlook. Twice -- hey, even I got standards."  
  
"Why do I find that hard to believe?" said a very dry, very British voice. Spike half-turned to see Giles and Anya coming in from the cold.  
  
Spike groaned. "Don't tell me you've come to stake me," he sighed. "I mean, let a man finish his drink. It's only civilized."  
  
"We're not here to stake you," Anya said, pulling off her gloves. "And I'll have a vodka tonic."  
  
"You most certainly will not," Giles said. "We must all keep our heads clear. Even you, Spike."  
  
Spike pushed the glass away and forced himself to focus on Giles. "Decided to wait? Take me along on the Slayer-snatching party?"  
  
"We went without you," Anya said. "Big mistake."  
  
"Ha. Told you," Spike said.  
  
Giles ignored this. "Willow attempted to put the vampires to sleep with a spell --"  
  
"And you let her?" Spike said, half rising from his barstool in indignation. "Think about it, would you? You know I know Red's a witch. You think I wouldn't prepare for that?" He sighed and sat down again. "How is she?"  
  
"Shaken, but all right," Giles said. "Xander's seeing to her at the house. Meanwhile, we succeeded in doing very little beyond alerting the vampires to our intentions. Will they try to move her now?"  
  
"They might," Spike said. "It's that or kill her. I never made up my mind either way."  
  
"In either case," Giles said sternly, "we must move as soon as possible. Come with us."  
  
"Why?" Spike said.  
  
"To rescue Buffy, of course," Anya said, looking wistfully at the remainder of Spike's scotch.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I got that part," Spike said. "And the thing is, I'm going to do it. I, Spike, William the Bloody, am about to stop drinking in order to save Buffy the Vampire Slayer's life. Do you see the problems here? Do you understand what this means?"  
  
Giles folded his arms. "Tell me."  
  
"It means that I -- I --" Spike struggled against the words, then slumped headfirst onto the bar. "I'm -- morally ambiguous."  
  
"It sneaks up on you," Anya said sympathetically. She patted his shoulder. "You get used to it, over time."  
  
"I never wanted it," Spike said, not lifting his head. "I was happy with evil. Evil's simple, classic. Never out of style. Moral ambiguity -- oh, God. Next thing you know I'll be sitting around, whining about self-doubts with that magnificent wanker Angel."  
  
"Spike," Giles said, "what you have is not a loss, but an opportunity. Ever since your, ah -- untimely demise, your course has been set out for you. You've done as Angelus did, as Drusilla did. You were no different than the other hordes of vampires upon the earth. But now you have a chance to be something different. For the first time in your existence as a vampire, you have the ability to choose something beyond evil. You have -- a kind of freedom now, do you see?"  
  
Spike lifted his head from the bar and stared at Giles for a long moment. Finally he said, "No."  
  
Anya rolled her eyes."Then just get up and help us already."  
  
Spike tossed a couple of bills on the bar. "At least I get to kill Harmony."  
  
Giles sighed.  
  
  
  
  
Xander half-turned to Willow. "I hope I'm not bringing up bad memories, but at times like this, I really miss Oz."  
  
"You're just talking about his van, aren't you?" Willow said, as she tried to get her elbow out of Anya's side.  
  
The five of them had packed themselves and an assortment of weapons into the Citroen. Willow tried to tell herself the discomfort was a good thing, in a way. Instead of worrying about Buffy, or dwelling on her own fear about the battle to come, she was dealing with Anya's shoes in her calves, Giles' scimitar wavering too close to her face and the Scotch-soaked smell of Spike's breath.   
  
"So what's waiting at the gym, Spike?" Xander said. "What other toy surprises are inside that box?"  
  
"That I can't tell you," Spike said. "Hadn't worked out the particulars on that one. Just some booby traps, that's all I know. Some simple, mechanical stuff -- just in case you all showed up while we were sleeping, or out, or something."  
  
"Booby traps," Xander said, then his eyes widened. "Oh, wait, wait, wait. The movies they were buying at Suncoast -- the 'Home Alone' movies and 'Raiders of the Lost Ark.' That's what they were doing! They were getting ideas for booby traps!"  
  
"Are you quite sure?" Giles said.  
  
"Hey, I may not have any superpowers, but I do have a Blockbuster card," Xander said. "This means we gotta be careful of -- heavy weights on strings that can swing down from the ceiling. Loose and slippery stuff on the floors. Spikes that come out from the walls. Large, rolling boulders --"  
  
"Where are they going to get a boulder?" Spike snapped.  
  
"Well, it could be a large, rolling something else," Xander said.   
  
"Hey, here's a concept," Anya said. "Instead of going into the house of horrors, why don't we draw them outside instead?"  
  
Everyone was quiet for a minute. "Okay, that makes a lot of sense," Willow said. "Spike?"  
  
"I wouldn't fall for it," Spike said. "But Harmony probably would."  
  
"You still think she's the one behind this? I mean, come on," Willow said.   
  
"Beside the point," Spike said. The Scotch was beginning to fade into hangover, and he was getting more irritable by the second. "Most vampires can't pass up a fight. Give them one, and you'll get most of them outside. Still have to go in to fetch the Slayer, though."  
  
"And that's your job, right?" Anya said.  
  
"Why me?" Spike said.  
  
"Yeah, why him?" Xander chimed in.  
  
Anya shrugged. "Well, this all Spike's big setup, and it doesn't look like they changed the plan at all. Spike wouldn't have any anti-vampire traps set up because the only vampire that he thought might help would be Angel, and Spike would want to kill Angel himself. Am I right?"  
  
Spike was looking at Anya with a very odd expression on his face. "It's been so long since anyone really understood me."  
  
"Okay, then," Xander said hurriedly. "We draw them out, kill what we can. When the vamp crowd thins out enough, Spike goes in and gets Buffy out. We vamoose. This is the plan?"  
  
"I don't know that I would have used the term 'vamoose,' but you have the essentials," Giles said as he turned into the school parking lot. "Get ready, everyone."  
  
"Showtime," Spike muttered, hefting his new favorite meat cleaver in his hand.  
  
The five of them clambered out of the car, tripping over themselves and each other. "Now I know how clowns feel," Xander said.  
  
"I would've thought you'd be familiar with that already," Spike said. "Let's just get this started, shall we?" He walked up to the flagpole in front of the gym and started banging on it with the meat cleaver; the metal thwang reverberated throughout the grounds. "Wake up in there!" he shouted. "It's at least two hours to sunrise, you wimps. You already down for the count?"  
  
"Spike, are you mad?" Giles whispered.   
  
"We're supposed to draw them out," Spike said. "How did you want to do it?"  
  
"Some -- safe way?" Willow said uncertainly.   
  
But Spike's method seemed to have worked. The vampires were swarming out of the doors, grinning blackly at the small hunting party. Harm came out last, swaggering a bit. "About time you guys got here."  
  
  
  
  
  
Buffy heard something going on outside -- she couldn't make out the particulars over all the music, then all the vampires' excitement, but something was definitely up. They were going outside -- not all of them, but a bunch of them.   
  
Enough.  
  
She opened her eyes a fraction and let her head loll to one side, as if still in drugged sleep. No more than four vampires hung around the gym. Strangely, they seemed to be involved in tying string to a bunch of paint cans. Whatever, Buffy thought. I like these odds.   
  
The bolting for her chains looked kinda weak. So did that door.  
  
Time to take charge of this situation.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"So, Spike," Harm said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "What's this deal with you hanging around with Xander Harris? I mean, I was too cool to do that when I was just a human."  
  
"Strange times make strange bedfellows," Spike said, glaring at her.  
  
"There is nothing even remotely bedfellowy about any of this," Xander insisted. He was getting more nervous -- two dozen vampires sounded like such a nice, round number, but when you looked at them up close and realized how many you had to kill -- how many were trying to kill you --   
  
Xander jumped as he heard a screeching sound -- tires on gravel, he realized. Somebody had just driven up.  
  
"What's that?" Harm snapped.   
  
A vamp leaped up and clambered to the top of the gym to see. "Long black car. L.A. plates --"  
  
Willow beamed. Giles sighed in relief. Spike groaned. Anya said, "You are about to be in a world of trouble."  
  
Harm folded her arms against her chest. "So you got some more help. Big whoop. There's still a whole lot more of us than there are of you, and we've still got your Slayer, and no matter how many punches you throw or weapons you pull, we can do more. You really think you can get through this without at least one of you dying? Think again."  
  
Xander could hear footsteps coming closer in the dark. Damn, but it sucked to be so glad to turn around and see -- "Cordelia?"  
  
"Cordelia?" Harm repeated, looking up blankly.  
  
"Harmony," Cordy said, as she stepped into the light. "You know, even if they hadn't told me you were a vampire, I think I'd know. It's pretty obvious you haven't seen a mirror in a while."  
  
Harmony gasped. Xander hissed, "Where the hell is Angel?"  
  
"Fighting some slime demons that set up shop in the Staples Center," Cordelia murmured. "And he forgot his damn cell phone again."  
  
"He doesn't even know about this yet?" Xander said. "This is not good."  
  
"Relax," Cordelia said as she began walking forward again. "He'd just be along for the ride anyway. You have to fight fire with fire."  
  
"Uh, Cordelia," Harmony stammered, nervously smoothing her hair, "what are you doing here? I heard you moved to L.A."  
  
"Yeah, I'm in the big city now. Where the big kids play. And where are you, Harmony?" Cordelia folded her arms and lifted her chin. "Right back in high school. Same little pack of friends, same little mean-spirited universe. And the same old fashion sense, I see. Bet you're still shopping at The Limited."  
  
The vampires were shifting around uneasily now, waiting for Harm to hit Cordelia back with some stinging comment, or at least to leap forward and snap her neck. Harm wanted to do both. But seeing Cordelia -- head held high, lips smirked, hair looking totally well-conditioned -- slammed her out of vamp mode into -- what?   
  
Into that little tenth-grader who lived or died by Cordelia's word. And Harmony couldn't seem to snap out of it.   
  
A dull thud sounded from inside the gym, followed by the sound of twisting metal -- all too faint for the humans outside to hear, but a couple of the vampires glanced inside a hole in the paint covering the window. When they pulled away, their faces looked even paler than usual.  
  
"I mean, isn't it time you got over high school?" Cordelia said. "Or at the very least, got over yourself?"  
  
"Oh, that's rich," Harm said, clenching her hands in fists. "Since when does Cordelia Chase get to talk about anyone getting over herself?"  
  
Another thump, a little louder this time. The vampire on the roof lowered himself enough to look through a similar gap in one of the high windows, then pulled himself up again very quickly.  
  
Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "People change," she said. "But you never will. Face facts, Harmony. You're trapped in high school FOREVER."  
  
The pure truth and horror of that hit Harmony all at once, and she started to cry. Above her, she heard the vampires groaning.  
  
"Oh, man, this sucks." "She's totally caving!"   
  
"So maybe we should handle this situation ourselves," said Tess.  
  
The vampire on the roof shook his head and jumped to the ground. "Forget it. Let's motor."  
  
The humans watched in amazement as the other vampires began filing off, some slumped over in disappointment and disgust, others in a curious rush. Spike laughed under his breath. "Morons."  
  
Harmony plopped down on the bench by the door to sob in earnest. "I didn't ask for this, you know," she wailed. "I never wanted to be a vampire."  
  
"That's funny," Spike said, testing the heft of the meat cleaver. "The rest of us got engraved invitations."  
  
Harmony seemed oblivious to anything besides Cordelia's still-withering stare. "I mean, I suck at being a vampire. I'm no good at it. Most times, I can't even bring myself to kill people. I've been living off squirrels, mostly." She sniffled and looked up querulously at Cordelia. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to catch a squirrel?"  
  
"Thankfully, no," Cordelia said. "Harmony, I'm sorry this happened to you. I mean it. But you are what you are, and I am what I am, and that means you better get out now or get staked. Your call."  
  
Harmony got to her feet uncertainly and looked around at the others, then dejectedly began walking away into the dark. Spike gestured after her incredulously. "That's it? We're just letting her go?"  
  
"Don't you have a Slayer to save?" Xander snapped.  
  
"Unbelievable," Spike muttered. He stalked to the door and pulled it open --  
  
-- to reveal Buffy walking out under her own power, a makeshift stake in one hand. "And they said chivalry was dead," Buffy muttered as she walked through the door he still held open for her.  
  
"Buffy!" Willow cried as she leaped forward to hug her. Xander and Giles followed suit, enveloping Buffy tightly in their arms.  
  
"Guys, guys, feeling confined not so good for me at the moment," Buffy said, and everyone pulled back.  
  
Giles looked her up and down; she looked a wreck -- even thinner than she had been, filthy with dirt and blood, her legs a ruin of wounds. But she was on her feet, alive and looking back at him. It was more than he had dared to let himself hope for. "Buffy, you escaped on your own?"  
  
"Drug wore off," she said simply. "I waited until I thought I was strong enough to tear up the cage and take our few vamps, then I made my move."  
  
"So, you're okay, then," Cordelia said.  
  
Buffy looked at her strangely. "Cordy. Came all the way up here by yourself?"  
  
"Angel was out, and I didn't wait around to tell him what was happening," Cordelia said. "The message is still on the machine, waiting to totally freak him out --"  
  
"Erase it," Buffy said. "Can you do that? No need for him to come tearing up here now that I'm okay."  
  
Cordelia looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "Sure, I can do that from the highway."  
  
"Highway?" Xander said.  
  
"My work here is done," Cordelia replied, then smiled brilliantly. "You know, I've always wanted to say that."  
  
And with that, she turned and began walking back to the car. Giles called after her, "Cordelia?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thank you. And happy holidays."  
  
"Right back atcha," Cordelia said with a little wave, then disappeared into the dark.  
  
"Now, then," Giles said, sliding one of Buffy's arms around his shoulders. "Let's get you back to the house, clean you up, get you something to eat."  
  
"I'd really rather go back to my house," Buffy said, smiling unevenly. "No offense, but I spent the last -- how many days?"  
  
"Little over a week," Anya supplied.  
  
Buffy raised her eyebrows quickly and bit her lip before continuing. "Well, I spent all that time surrounded. I could do with a little peace and quiet."  
  
"Understandable," Giles said. Willow smiled encouragingly at her. Xander nodded.  
  
"Now wait one goddamned minute," Spike said. Everyone turned around to see him, still standing at the door, jaw open in amazement. "You're telling me that we're not going to kill ANYBODY?"  
  
"What's the point?" Willow said. "We've got Buffy back."  
  
"Are you telling me that's the point?" Spike said. "This is the reward I get for being morally ambiguous? This is no good at all!"  
  
"What else are you gonna do, Spike?" Xander said.  
  
"Something," Spike hissed. "Anything. This being a member of the Scooby Gang -- that's for losers like you. It's not for me. Not for anyone -- evil."  
  
He straightened himself up and began to smile. "Yes. Tried to fight it, but what's the use? I'm not one of you, and I'm done trying to be. You lot are on your own now."  
  
"Aw, darn," Buffy said under her breath.  
  
"I'll be by to get my things," Spike said to Xander. "And then I don't intend to see any of you ever again."  
  
"Oh, thank God," Xander said. Anya smiled and squeezed his arm.  
  
Willow looked after Spike, a little sadly, as he walked out into the night.  
  
  
  
  
"You should have tried a sporting goods store," Willow said. "Baseball bats."  
  
"Baseball bats!" Xander repeated, slapping his forehead. He, Willow and Anya were all walking in the UC Sunnydale quad; school hadn't started again, but students were beginning to file back into dormitories, unloading their new stereos, calling to their new friends. "So easy to break up into stakes."  
  
"The bats could have come in handy," Anya agreed.  
  
"Plus, hey, what about the Bombay Company?" Willow said. "Lots of wood furniture there."  
  
"You're the smart one," Xander said, a little ruefully. "Next time Harmony leads a vampire army at the mall, I want you with me."  
  
"Like that's ever gonna happen again," Willow said. "Hey -- there she is!"  
  
Buffy was walking toward Stevenson, a laundry bag slung over one shoulder. At Willow's call and wave, she turned and waited for the others to jog to her side.  
  
She was over being mad, Buffy told herself. Willow and Xander and Giles did their best. And Angel -- well, he never even knew about it. So it would be stupid to be upset about it, stupid to admit that she had felt scared, and abandoned, and lost -- stupid to do anything besides move on. And that was what she intended to do.  
  
"Buffster!" Xander said, as he gave her a quick hug around the shoulders. "You're back to your usual glorious-looking self -- ow," he said, as Anya gave him a sharp poke in the ribs.  
  
"I'm feeling great," Buffy said. "How are you guys?"  
  
"Good," Willow said. "My -- a friend of mine who does some magic and stuff with me, she's getting back into town today. I definitely want to talk about that anti-spell spell with her."  
  
"All work and no play," Xander said.  
  
"It is play," Willow said, surprised at the giddy smile she could feel on her face.   
  
"I'm just waiting for Spike's move-out day," Xander said. "He keeps postponing due to repeated hangovers."  
  
"But as long as he's out drinking all night, we don't really care," Anya said.  
  
"Yes, we do," Xander said. "But what about you, Buff? Giles kinda wondered why you haven't come over, or called much --"  
  
"Just needed some alone time. Yeesh," Buffy said.   
  
"Yeah, but Giles needs some not-alone time," Willow said. "Maybe we all do, a little."  
  
"Soon," Buffy promised. "Hey, can I catch up with you guys later? Riley's due any sec. I wanted to welcome him back."  
  
"You do that," Willow said encouragingly. She tried not to look hurt as Buffy went inside the dorm. When she glanced over at Xander's face, she hoped she was doing a better job than he was.  
  
Buffy took the stairs two at a time, enjoying the renewed spring in her step. The scars from her captivity were all but healed; just a few shadowed lines remained, and they'd be gone in another day or so. She didn't ever have to think about it again.  
  
It was behind her. Just like high school was behind her. Just like -- all of it. Willow and Xander and Giles would understand that, after a while. Buffy was done with her past; she wanted her future.  
  
Sure enough, Riley was sitting in the hallway outside her room and flipping through an airline magazine. "You know, you're the only person in the world who keeps his copy of Sky," she said.  
  
He looked up at her and grinned. "I'm kinda attached to it," he said as he got to his feet. "It's the only thing that kept me from having to watch 'The Avengers.' How are you?"  
  
"Great, and doing better every second," Buffy said as she embraced him.  
  
"Over that bout of the flu?"  
  
"Mmm-hmm," she said, lying easily as she got on tiptoe to kiss his lips.   
  
"Then what say we get the laundry put away and get something to eat?" Riley said. "We could call Xander and Willow --"  
  
"No, that's okay," Buffy said. "I've been thinking that I'd like to spend some time -- thinking of you first."  
  
Riley raised his eyebrows. "I ought to pretend that I don't love the sound of that."  
  
"Don't bother," Buffy said, pulling him along with her as she went into her dorm room. The windows were open, and the sun was shining, and for a moment she almost couldn't make out his features in all the light.  
  
  
  
  
"Well, look who we have here," Tess said. "It's our little Harmony."  
  
Harmony jumped to her feet. She'd been all alone ever since Cordy came along and ruined all her plans; she was avoiding the other vampires, and until this moment, she had thought they were returning the favor. But here was Tess, in Harmony's favorite park, hands on her hips, smirk back on her face. "Uh, hey, Tess."  
  
"Thought you were pretty hot there for a while, didn't you?" Tess jeered. "Guess now you see what it takes to be the Big Bad in this town."  
  
"It was really -- educational," Harmony said slowly.   
  
Tess laughed. "What, are you giving a book report now? That girl was right. You are trapped back in high school."  
  
"You know, one thing about me in high school?" Harmony said. "When I wanted to, I could be a real bitch."  
  
On the word "bitch," Harmony swung her fist into Tess' chest. Tess only had enough time to look down and see the stake in Harmony's hand before she exploded into dust.   
  
Harmony slapped the dust off her hands and smiled a little. "I feel better," she said to herself.  
  
"Tess? God, are you ever gonna wait up for -- oh, hey, Harmony," Gregory said. "We've been looking all over for you!"  
  
"I know you have," Harmony said, looking appraisingly at Gregory. He didn't seem interested in Tess' whereabouts anymore. Instead, he was smiling warmly at her. She smiled back.  
  
"Tess ran off," he said, after a second.  
  
"How lucky for me," she replied. He slid one arm around her, and they began walking into the woods together. "I've been going over my mistakes, you know, trying to learn from the experience, like you said? I think I've got a lot of it figured out now."  
  
"That's the spirit, Harmony," Gregory said. "Always building toward the future."  
  
"Yeah," she said. "And don't forget -- it's just Harm."  
  
  
THE END  
  
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